Mirror's Edge
by shutterbones
Summary: Queen Elsa has only just begun rebuilding her kingdom when she receives a letter from the King of the Southern Isles, pleading her help on behalf of his youngest brother and traitor to Arendelle. She embarks on a journey to find closure, only to instead discover the face of a troubled man hiding behind the mask of the monster that tried to kill her. (Frozen Sequel/Continuation)
1. The King's Letter

**Author's Note: **I actually don't like Frozen as a whole, but Elsa and Hans shined out of the rubble of that movie like two brilliant diamonds that demanded an elaboration on their story. So from frustration and a desire to find a conclusion to two very dynamic and interesting characters, I decided to write a ficlet to satisfy my hungry subconscious. I hope you all enjoy it. I don't think I'll rest until I get it out of my brain. I'm a huge Helsa fan and while this fic largely centers around that relationship and how I feel it could/would form in this headcanon, this story is about Elsa's epilogue and closure. She deserved a better ending.

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Elsa strolled down the hall towards the ballroom, shifting out of the way as a group of servants hurried by carrying furniture. The kingdom was thriving with the arrival of so many new faces within the castle walls. After the doors had opened, Elsa had found that their newly-inhabited dwelling had trouble staying clean and sought to hire more help. It was ironic to think her entire life had been a series of empty rooms and closed doors, and now the halls were now more crowded than she ever remembered. Now, well… now she couldn't find a moment's peace.

"Majesty," a thin voice called from behind. She half-turned to find her chambermaid standing with a letter in hand. She bowed out of courtesy, and Elsa quickly returned a nod before taking the envelope.

"From the Southern Isles," she explained before Elsa could inquire the author of the letter. She squinted her face in the slightest, certain to not let her maid see the uneasiness that now settled in her stomach, and quickly excused herself. Her hand clenched the envelope so tight she felt ice forming between her fingertips. Head bent low, she went straight upstairs to her room and didn't look up until her chamber doors were shut firmly behind her.

A deep breath escaped once she was separated from the noise outside. The voices fell silent, as did the nervous pattering of feet up and down the halls. She slumped against the doorframe and stared down at the thing burning in her hands.

_ From the Southern Isles._

There were many reasons the King of the Isles would write to her, and none of them were good. To be reminded so soon of the incident made her chest tight and fingers ache. Hans, a man she had been concerned about though not threatened by, had nearly accomplished killing both herself and her sister Anna. He'd been brought back to his brothers in chains from her last memory, though she'd never learned of his fate. Not until now.

She stepped across the threshold to her writing desk. Her hands were shaking. _Control… _she told herself. The ice retreated from the edge of the letter, and she decidedly lit a candle before sitting down in her chair. Carefully cutting open the envelope, she pulled the contents from inside and slid open the folded pages to begin reading.

_ To the Queen of Arendelle,_

_ I apologize for the brief and vague nature of this letter, but I fear the information I wish to share is too sensitive to trust sending such a distance where nefarious men may seek purpose to use it against us. I can only hope you will understand, and heed my request, when I kindly ask for your presence at my kingdom. Please know that this is not a royal obligation, but a plea from a concerned sibling for his youngest brother - please come to the Southern Isles. I understand what it would mean to you to put yourself through such an ordeal, but I plead on behalf of my family. I do not expect you to reply or heed my request, though I would be grateful and welcome to have you here._

_ King of the Southern Isles_

_ Kasper_

Elsa read the letter a few times over to ensure she hadn't missed anything. She stared at the blank lines in between the writing, wondering if perhaps there was something she was missing. What could the King possibly want that would require her to travel across to their isle? Panic swept her chest as she considered the idea that Hans might have escaped from the boat, and perhaps his eldest brother feared he would try to intercept the letter. Would he really try to kill her again, after everything that happened? What if he tried to hurt Anna?

Elsa drew to her feet before the concept could draw itself fully, then paused halfway to the door. She was being over-presumptuous. Besides, the guards had been doubled since their return and she was certain there were enough people in the castle that someone would notice a traitor or assassin sneaking in. Still, fear drew her back as she held her hand to her chest and wondered why the King had asked for her. It must be important. The letter sounded frantic, and his handwriting was shaky. Nervous, even. What did he think _she_ could possibly do?

Then the thought struck her - what if she'd iced his heart the way Anna's had been frozen? It may take days, but surely he would die if he were encased the way Anna had been. It had taken her sister a full week to completely recover from the incident, and it had only lasted for a short few minutes. If Hans were already frozen solid…

She tightened her fist until the letter crumpled in her hand. _Good, maybe he should freeze to death for what he's done. _The thought entered and exited her head as quickly as it had arrived as she immediately felt guilt stab her subconscious. No one deserved to die, not even him. She reminded herself he had been the one to save her from the Duke's men of Weaseltown, and brought her all the way back to the castle. He'd kept everyone from executing her on the spot, though it still didn't make sense why he'd gone to such lengths to protect her only to try and kill her in the end.

Confused and anxious, she circled around her room until a layer of snow blanketed the ground. She had her fingers gripping her head, eyes roaming the white floors when the door pushed open and her wide-eyed sister stepped inside.

"Elsa?" she half-laughed when she saw the snow. Elsa immediately cocked her head and raised a hand.

"Please shut the door," she said in a strained voice. Her sister obeyed, pushing the oak door closed behind her and stepped to the side of the snow mound Elsa had unconsciously built around her.

"Uhm… is everything-" she looked around for some source of discomfort, "..okay?" she trailed off.

Elsa contemplated telling Anna about the letter. She put the edge of her thumbnail to her teeth and gritted it out of habit. Anna didn't have to ask again - she recognized when her sister was distraught with or without the looming presence of a snow cloud overhead. Elsa turned away to try and think.

She was already attempting to find a way to conceal the letter from Anna when her sister materialized behind her and snatched it from her hands. She reached wildly for it, though Anna bounced away before Elsa could retrieve it.

"What's this?" she questioned while dodging another grab from Elsa.

"Anna, please don't-" Elsa begged, though Anna had already opened it and stopped moving entirely as her eyes caught the headline of the written entry. It was too late to stop now, so Elsa retreated a step and tucked her hands into the crooks of her arm, lips pressed tightly together.

When Anna had finished, her face had turned a promising shade of red. She looked from her sister to the letter, mouth agape. Her hands flew defiantly to her sides, clutching the already-crumpled paper and latched her fiery eyes to her sister.

"You aren't considering going, are you?" she demanded. Elsa paused, and continued trying to find places to put her hands while stepping back and forth.

"I-I don't know yet-" she admitted. Her voice was weak. It only angered Anna more.

"You _cannot_ be serious, Elsa!" Anna barked. Elsa's chest jumped as the pitch of her sister's voice echoed through the room.

"Anna, _tone!_" she warned her sister. Anna heeded her request, though grudgingly, and balled up the letter in her fury and threw it at the floor. Elsa reached to catch it, and missed, then plucked it from the snow and began smoothing it out.

"Do not take out your anger on a mere piece of paper," she chided, now growing frustrated with her sister's overzealous behavior. "All the King requested was my _presence_ there - I do not even know what for, yet," she reminded Anna while placing the letter on the desk.

"They cannot expect you to just _waltz_ up to the doorstep of a _traitor!_ He almost managed to kill _both _of us, remember?" Anna scoffed.

"Yes, and he was the same man you were planning on marrying, as well," Elsa calmly reminded her. She straightened finally, and looked down to her reckless albeit brave little sister and offered a small smile. "I can handle myself, Anna. I think I should go," Elsa decided as the smile fell and she hid again behind a faceless mask, moving to the side to begin preparations.

Anna made a point to follow her all the way down the hall to the foyer, then to the kitchens, and finally out to the harbor, all the while explaining all the reasons why she shouldn't go and why Elsa shouldn't worry about helping them. As they began returning to the entrance of the castle, Elsa stopped at the gates and turned to her sister. Anna, who seemed to speak in a singular, run-on sentence, finally drew to a close and waited for her sister's response.

"You were willing to help me when everyone else called me a monster. I will do the same for the King," she placed a hand on Anna's shoulder and smiled again, "you must treat _everyone_ in this world with kindness, Anna, or surely our hearts will wither. Even the brother of a traitor."

With that, she left her sister in the courtyard and called the maids to her quarters to help pack.


	2. A Brother's Love

**Author's Note: **First off I wanted to thank all of my enthusiastic watchers/followers! Thank you guys SO much for your support, this is really just incredible to have such a positive response! Anyway, I really appreciate your interest and am super excited to write this so I hope I don't disappoint my Helsa followers! :) As a quick note, I've decided to change the King's name to something more appropriate and less confusing in lieu of so many vowel-syllable names haha. He was only mentioned by name once in the previous chapter, so hopefully it's not too confusing to switch to Kasper now! Anyway, as you were!

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Kasper overlooked the city from his tower window, watching as the dim light turned the gray valley into a colorful spectrum of dark green and white. Arm rested against the cold stone, he watched the fiery sun climb over the treetops until the city was bathed in golden light. His wife's hand touched his shoulder.

"My King," she addressed him fondly with a turn of her gentle fingers. He smiled to her, solemn and sad, and pulled himself from the wall. "The escorts have arrived," she said to him.

"I suppose now is as good a time as any," he sighed, tilting his eyes to stare at the floor. He was hardly the image of a King - not that he ever felt he looked as such - though today felt particularly disheartening. He couldn't rid himself of the low tremors of fear that climbed up his body and rendered him paralyzed. His brother had done what they always feared, and now he would be the one to suffer the consequences in lieu of protecting Hans. He drew on his endless well of grief and frustration, and ran a tired hand through his brown and silver-streaked hair.

"Perhaps he'll be better today," Ansa said in a soothing voice, her hand touching his face. Kasper choked on his disgruntled laugh, too bitter to exert it from his lips.

"Or perhaps he will be as bad as he's been for the past month since returning on the ship," Kasper retaliated in a dull, empty tone. He looked at his wife then - stung by his negativity - and sighed before offering her a small smile. His hand brushed her cheek. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I grow weary of this song - I just wanted for things to return to the way they once were."

"You know he won't ever get better, we've _tried_-" Ansa strained at the end, and Kasper waved his hand in understanding. He knew as much as she how much time and effort they'd put into trying to save his brother from whatever curse or affliction made him this way. Even the best readers, sorcerers, and medicine men couldn't cure him of the disease. None of his other brothers seemed afflicted the way he was, at least not to his knowledge. True, a few of his siblings were rotten bastards only out for themselves, but Hans was not that way. At least, Kasper liked to believed his true face would not echo such a terrible mind. If he had one at all.

"I'm waiting to wake up and my brother return to me, if he was ever present to begin with," Kasper began to feel the old ache of his sorrow return, and swell his chest. "I'm sorry, I just-" he paused, forced to collect himself by pressing a thumb and forefinger to his bridge, "I-I can't take much more of this. I can't watch him destroy himself."

Ansa relented to her husband's broken confession with open arms, pulling her towering king close to rest his great head against her shoulder and hold him. "It's all right, dear…" she murmured. He shook with thunderous relent, fighting his tears. She quietly shushed him and ran her fingers through his hair. "You've had to bear a great burden for both your kingdom and your family. He cannot expect you to protect him forever," she paused, her thoughts lost as she stared out the early morning window as the light settled over her eyes. "He must face whatever consequences follow what he has done this time. We can only hope for her mercy," she spoke down to her husband, her king. "She is traveling all this way, so certainly that means good news," Ansa reassured him.

Kasper slowly rose from the cocoon of her arms and breathed in a deep sigh, rubbing his entire face to rid himself of his sadness. He cleared his throat. "I hope you are right, Ansa," he murmured, his attention shifting now to the glaring light through the window. "Otherwise I fear she only travels here to return him in chains for an execution."

"It will be fine," Ansa persisted, then guided him away from the window. "Now, dress yourself and meet the guards outside. They'll bring you down to visit Hans," she reached over and smoothed out the cloak lain out on the bed. He looked down at the array of perfectly arranged clothes - a small but meaningful gesture his wife often did for him - and smiled to her.

"You are a good woman, Ansa-" he pulled her close and kissed her forehead. She politely kissed his cheek in return and slipped from his arms like water, then strode to the door without pausing.

"I am, and you are late. The Queen of Arendelle should disembark by nightfall, so you should see to calming your brother before her arrival," she nodded sagely before opening the door. She popped back in briefly as Kasper tugged off his sleeping shirt, pausing to admire her unclothed husband, then smiled. "Try not to make them wait too long," she added with a grin.

"Of course, dear," he chuckled.

Once the door was shut, Kasper's smile faded. He continued dressing in silence, his motions aggressive and strict. He paused in front of the floor-length mirror to check that he hadn't forgotten anything. His eyes were tired and face sick with worry. He hoped he might muster up the energy for a more positive emotion, but guilt clung to him like a vice today. Sighing, he swung around and strode to the door.

The guards greeted him wordlessly, and together they moved brisk through the hall, and down the stairwell into the foyer, then to the throne room. He ducked through the low archway and continued at a slow jog ahead of the guards, down the winding staircase. The world around him grew dark and crowded, with only the occasional light of a torch sconce on the wall to mark the path. After a brief walk through a narrow, damp passage, he came to another stairwell and made his way down until they were on the threshold of the most bottom floor of the castle - the dungeon.

Water dripped from indiscernible spots, and a low, unsettling hum echoed through the cave-like enclosure. Only a few lights were bothered to be lit since Hans had been restricted to his far-most chamber since his return. They had stationed only what was necessary outside of his room for precaution. When they arrived at the iron door at the end of the hallway, he nodded to the female gatekeeper, who silently obeyed her king and unlocked the heavy door, then stepped to the side to allow him past.

The door shut and locked behind him with a loud groan, awaking the man chained inside. He was sitting on the floor, just as he had been for the past week, his head bent low and arms cuffed behind him. The sight nearly tore Kasper's heart open again as he regarded his pitiful brother, surrendered and desolate, there on the cold stone floor.

"Hello Hans," he forced an even tone out, though his face tensed with anxious fear of what state his brother would be in today. At first, Hans did not reply. He continued staring at the floor, though his eyes were open. His breath came out heavy and uneven and filled the air in pockets of cloudy white. Kasper realized they had forgotten to light the torches in his room, and moved to do so in fear of his brother catching hypothermia.

"No, don't-" Hans' voice cracked from the husk sitting on the floor. Kasper paused halfway to the stone table to retrieve the flint and steel, and turned back to his sullen brother.

"I won't have you freeze to death," Kasper said sternly. Hans' expression tightened in the slightest, though his hair obscured his eyes. He could not get a clear look of his face.

"I won't," he said plainly. Kasper, realizing his kindness was futile, returned to his place in front of his brother and planted his feet apart.

"The Queen of Arendelle is arriving today," Kasper finally said after a long silence followed his brother's last words. He thought he saw surprise, or maybe fear, briefly shift across his face, but quickly again fell behind a mask of uncertainty when he hid himself further and bent his head low.

"What does she want?" he asked, his tone dead. His shoulders were tightened, and Kasper could see now how harshly he gripped his fists in the cuffs.

"I asked her to come here," Kasper elaborated. His brother raised his head then, eyes filled with slight wonder, though none more than necessary. He had trouble conversing sometimes whenever he didn't know the agenda of his other party.

"Why?" he said in a singular, mouthed motion. He waited for his brother's reaction.

"I'm not entirely sure yet," Kasper admitted. "But something must be done," he looked down at his baby brother with a look of regret and disappointment, which Hans immediately resented. A frown carved into his features as he turned away and glared at the floor.

"I'm a failure, a coward, a wretch," he mechanically ground out the words, feeding off of Kasper's emotions like a parasite. "You would be better off without me, better off were I dead. I would cause you less trouble, at the very least," he sounded so bitter and it hurt Kasper to see how hostile he had become. Yesterday he had at least held a conversation. Today he was as stone.

Perhaps it was for the best.

"You are my brother," Kasper protested weakly. Hans scoffed, and bared him a vicious smile under hooded eyes.

"You desperately wish I wasn't," he bared his fangs. "You could feed me to the wolves, then."

Kasper would get nowhere with his brother today, though he had hoped for different. Sighing, he ran another frustrated hand through his hair and looked up to the singular, barred window high above, basking a lonely thread of light over Hans' form. That same sinking feeling filled his stomach as he realized what this would inevitably lead to, with or without the Queen's intervention.

"I love you, brother," he shuddered on his words, fighting the swell of pain that filled his chest when he heard them echoed back in pristine repetition.

"_I love you, brother_," Hans' mocked him.

He left without looking at him, and waited until the gatekeeper had shut and locked the door behind him once more before turning to glance at his brother inside of the chamber. Hans sunk once more, curling into himself and staring empty at the floor as the tears filled his eyes and he began to silently cry.

_ Goodbye, Hans._


	3. Girl in the River

**Author's Note: **Sorry if this is a little explanation-heavy I tried my hardest to cut it down to a reasonable length, but there was a lot of necessary info that needed to be said to Elsa. Anyway, hopefully this chapter kind of helps set up the story well I hope it makes sense to you guys. x_x As always, thank you so much for your support and interest! I absolutely love reading your wonderful reviews!

**EDIT:** Added in an explanation to how he escaped/got to Arendelle! Thank you guys for pointing that out! Only minor conversation edits were made when Ansa and Elsa are walking down to the dungeons.

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Elsa stared out into the wilderness in passing streaks of green and gold. The sun was setting over the hills, lighting up the tall trees in an otherworldly light. In Arendelle, the mountains were too thickly clustered around the kingdom to see the sunset properly, though she sometimes saw the sunrise. There was something so rich and warm about the sunset. It seemed to bath their city whenever it fell, and was perhaps a jealous treasure the Isles' residents enjoyed.

Her mind drifted back to a month ago when she met Hans for the first time. He had introduced himself while Anna danced with the strange albeit enthusiastic Duke of Weaseltown, and she had been too distracted to notice his presence until he nearly stood at her shoulder.

_ "Quite a strange sight, isn't it?" a male voice laughed to her right. She turned to find Anna's spot inhabited by a tall, young man with striking red hair and a quirked smile on his face. He slowly turned his eyes to her, the smile fading as he caught her surprise._

_ "I apologize, I didn't mean to be intrusive," he corrected himself and took a step back. Elsa, though a little less surprised, couldn't quite find a proper greeting. He took charge instead, and made a gracious bow to the queen._

_ "Prince Hans, of the Southern Isles," he introduced himself. He kept a formal, guarded stance as he raised up and regarded Elsa with calm eyes. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Majesty."_

_ "A-A pleasure as well, on mine-" Elsa stuttered a bit. She usually didn't have such trouble talking, but then again he had snuck up on her. She cleared her throat and quickly conducted herself, smoothing out her dress. "You needn't be so formal, really," Elsa added, her eyes drifting back to her sister awkwardly trying to match the bizarre movements of her dance partner. She tilted her head._

_ "It is certainly a sight," she agreed with a small chuckle. The gentle smile reappeared on Hans' face as he clasped hands behind his back._

_ "Do you usually stand so far back from the crowd?" he asked her. She was a bit startled by his question, though it didn't bother her as much as she thought it would to answer. He seemed genuinely interested as his curious eyes searched her face. She opened her mouth, paused, then looked nervously at her hands._

_ "For the most part, yes-" she began to fidget with her gloves. "I tend to keep to myself, though my sister is more outgoing than I am. You'd be in much better company with her, honestly," Elsa found herself saying with a slight laugh. She felt eased by the comfort of having someone besides her sister to talk to - if and when the rare chances occurred that she talked at all with Anna. It only made it harder to separate herself when she tried to get close again. Hans, however, would only be here for a short while. She needn't worry about growing attached, for he would leave in a few days. For this reason, she could speak freely… or as freely as her shuttered heart allowed._

_ "Not to say I don't enjoy company at times," she added with a raise of her hand. Hans looked slightly concerned for her response. She returned to the safety of her own space and sighed, sadness briefly crossing her expression. "I just… I've grown accustomed to being alone. That's all." She huffed a sigh and decided it was best to keep that side to herself. After tucking away her bad feelings, she breathed in and forced a calm smile on her face, turning to Hans. "You should go enjoy the ball, Prince Hans. My sister would love to escape the clutches of her current dance partner, for certain."_

_ "If you wish, Majesty," he smiled kindly and nodded to her, then made his way down the steps. He paused at the bottom and turned back to her for a moment. Elsa glanced up. "It's not always a terrible thing to be alone," he said to her, his eyes on the floor. He raised his gaze level then, and spoke with unmistakably clear-voiced sincerity. "You can find your true self there." He shrugged and smiled at her before turning into the crowd to find her sister._

Hans had been so kind, so genuine when she spoke to him. There was no conceivable way she could imagine him to be the monster Anna painted, though she could not ignore the fact he had raised a sword to her back. It pricked in the back of her mind with tireless frustration. Yet, at the same time he had seemed so different in the presence of Anna when she later found them arm-in-arm skirting through the crowd to find her. She'd exchanged a glance of surprise and slight dismay with Hans. He had looked uncomfortable under her accusing gaze, then her sister announced they would be married. Anger, mistrust, and fear entered her heart. Slight jealousy, too, when she realized how much more her younger sister shined in the company of others. Anna was full of life: bright, young, careless. Free. It was no surprise she could attract the attention of a young man like Hans, though something uneasy had stirred in her chest when she looked at them both and saw the change in Hans' demeanor. Something she had never placed, and still could not understand.

Like she had feared, he had turned on them both in the end, though the process of the act confused her most of all. If he truly had intentions of hurting them both, why would he go to such lengths to protect her? To waste time helping her? He could have killed her sister at any time, and she would've taken the blame for it. Yet he persevered, braving the north mountain to come find her and bring her all the way back to Arendelle. And then, in the cell… he had seemed so sincere. She needed to believe he wanted Anna save; she had to. Otherwise, it meant she was trapped in chains while he had free reign to terrorize the kingdom. Yet somehow, that had happened anyway, and it was Anna's sacrifice that had saved them both.

A million thoughts raced through her mind as they broke through the forest and overlooked a valley below. The sky had since fallen, and overhead a bright moon hung aglow in the center of a landscape of rich blue and twinkling white stars. A massive castle towered over the city, lit up by the glow of lanterns and torchlight. It glowed in the dark of the mountains and trees like a shining beacon, with stone as white as the stars. Houses spiraled from the center of the city in tight throngs, making it look like a massive star over the valley. It was a breathtaking sight, and one that nearly contended with the image of her beloved Arendelle back home.

Most of the residents had gone to sleep for the evening, so their arrival went mostly unnoticed as her driver guided the carriage through the silent night streets, quietly clucking to his reindeer. They reached the inner city and came to a stop at a massive gate surrounded by impossibly high stone walls. Their fortress was well-guarded, though she couldn't understand what from. They were the only kingdom that inhabited the isles, and they had miles of ocean around their city to alert them of any possible threat long before it got to the city.

As the gates opened, she stared up to the looming archway overhead as they passed under it and circled to the front steps of the palace. A group of guards awaited her arrival.

"Majesty," the decorated arms indicated to her he was the captain as a man stepped forward from the lineup and bowed to her. She offered a polite but faceless nod in return and helped herself down from the carriage, careful to wave off the persistent hands of courtesy from the men.

"I apologize we did not have a grander welcoming party, though I hope you understand our solemn circumstances do not allow much room for celebration," the captain dipped his head again. Elsa stepped past the men, and glanced back to her driver as he began unloading her things.

"Though I'm not entirely sure of your plight, I understand nonetheless," she touched a hand to her chest out of habit, then turned to the captain. "Will I speak to the king tonight, perhaps?" she asked in a thin, nervous voice. Elsa had hoped to learn of his dilemma before nightfall, and now she feared she might suffer another sleepless night worrying herself sick over what she'd unintentionally done to cause the king to request her presence at his home. So far it appeared their kingdom was in tact - she hadn't set off an eternal winter here, thankfully. That had been one of her worst imagined scenarios.

"Yes, though it will be brief - he has much to do in preparation for tomorrow. The King and Queen await your arrival in the throne room. I'm to escort you there," the captain glanced to her driver. "The servant chambermaids will help you find the guest quarters. You can bring your queen's belongings there. A man will come to tend to your reindeer and carriage." Her driver nodded and began carrying Elsa's bags up the steps ahead of her. The captain's eyes turned back to Elsa.

"If you will, I must request we hurry," he held out his arm. Elsa shook her head and held a hand to her chest.

"I can walk on my own, thank you," she strained to smile, nervousness twinging her features. He released his arm before nodding and led her up the steps. The castle had seemed massive before, and now she felt swallowed whole by its size. Considering the fact Hans had twelve other brothers, she supposed it was only appropriate. Though that didn't stop her from feeling overwhelmed by the sheer volume of each new room or courtyard she walked through.

They reached the atrium last - a beautiful, open yard with winding stone pathways and fountains circling the flower garden centerpiece. She walked along the tall white pillars, passing in and out of the moonlight as her eyes lingered over the midnight garden. Elsa would have loved to have a private garden in Arendelle; she made a mental note to request one to be built when she returned home.

Just up the stairs from the atrium they arrived on the threshold of the throne room. Unprepared for the introduction, Elsa found herself frantically turning around to find where the captain had disappeared to once she looked up. She caught the fringe of his coat as he disappeared back into the atrium and left her alone in the dark, enormous room.

"Hello?" she turned back around, trying to adjust her eyes to the gloom. Only a single, lonely lantern sat at the end of a long table. It began to move, and bobbed up and down in the dark as if possessed. She blinked and took a step back in alarm when she realized a hand held the lantern, and soon found two figures shaping out of the shadows as they approached her from the other end of the table.

"We're so glad you came," a relieved female's voice spoke before their faces materialized from the dark by lantern light. She saw a small, doe-eyed woman with long brown hair and premature lines wrinkling her forehead appear first. Beside her stood a man with silvering brown hair and weary green eyes; he looked impossibly tired, and despite his height he seemed to sink beneath the two women.

"We've never formally met," Elsa blurted when she recalled her parents mention the eldest brother's rule. She was only a child when Kasper took over his father's kingdom. A subsequent illness took the mighty king before anyone was prepared, and shortly after his grieving widow died a few years later. Her mother often said it was from a broken heart. Kasper was only twenty-five years old when he became king; she could see now how much it had affected him. Lines etched deep into his face, creating a permanent look of worry on his otherwise young features.

"Queen Elsa of Arendelle," the king's wife spoke again, and Elsa realized she hadn't even acknowledged the queen yet. She quickly turned to her and bowed, nervous.

"I'm sorry, I- yes," she greeted the kind woman, who returned the gesture with a calm nod.

"It's all right, we don't expect you to be on your best behavior," she smiled. "I'm Queen Ansa, Kasper's wife. You can simply call me Ansa." Elsa returned her smile and turned to the king.

"King Kasper of the Southern Isles," she bowed respectfully to the man, who seemed to only just realize she stood in front of him. He cleared his throat and bowed down low enough to touch his knee to the floor. Elsa stepped back in slight surprise to the overly courteous gesture, and drew her hand up when she realized he had yet to stand.

"As a king, I cannot excuse what my brother has done. You honor both myself and my people by granting us your presence. As a brother… I am truly ashamed of my sibling," he rose finally, and looked down at Elsa with a saddened expression, "but I must plead for his life and your understanding of why we brought you here."

Elsa was taken aback by the king's speech. She stuttered on silent words for a moment before finding her voice again and clearing her throat.

"I didn't come here to execute your brother, Kasper," she addressed him informally in hopes to quell his obvious fear. He loosened his posture then, and let out a deep sigh.

"Thank the sky," Ansa breathed. Her arm clung to her husband's as she released the tension that seemed to have strung them both from the ceiling, and smiled. "Kasper hasn't stopped worrying that was the only reason you agreed to come here." Elsa felt her heart shuttering again as she was reminded of the problem that loomed over their heads. She creased her brow and looked hard at them both, needing to reassert herself.

"Do not mistake me, I am still Queen of Arendelle and what your brother has done is an unforgivable act of treason," she spoke calm and clear, then realized the fear that flashed across their faces then was too great and raised a hand, her expression softening. "But I also know what it is like to have a sibling, so I cannot possibly hold you responsible for the faults of one man." She paused then, sighing in frustration, and shut her eyes. "I came here because I need to know the reasons _why_," her voice strained in the slightest. "Because I honestly want to believe you aren't a threat to my people. I had to see for myself," she raised her head to them both, clear minded.

"Thank you for trusting us," the king spoke this time, earnest in his words as he nodded to Elsa. She returned it, though kept her lips pressed tightly together. She wouldn't let them forget the reasons why they were standing here in the first place, regardless of how courteous they had been. When he didn't say anything else, she glanced between the two and began to fidget a bit.

"_Why_ did you bring me here?" her formal voice lapsed into a worry that had been gnawing at her subconscious for the past few days. Her heart began to pace again as she remembered the dozens of scenarios she had concocted to explain the urgency of their letter, all of which fired in the forefront of her mind in that moment.

"We thought you deserved to know-" Ansa started, then looked to her husband for clarity. He sighed and looked at the floor, searching for the words.

"My youngest brother is… not as he seems," he tried, then looked to Elsa. "I _know_ nothing I say or do will change how you feel, but if we can just _show _you-"

"How do you mean?" Elsa cut in, unable to stop herself. Suspicion began to build now as she looked from their nervous faces and back to the door that led to the atrium as if she expected Hans to materialize from the entrance at any moment.

"Hans is… ill," Ansa was the one to speak this time. "We aren't sure when or how it affected him, or if it was a curse, but he's been this way as long as we can remember." The king instinctively fell back and allowed his wife to take over. She appeared to be better at explaining it than he.

"Exactly _what _is wrong with him?" Elsa felt herself growing impatient as they danced around the subject. Ansa looked again to Kasper, and he stepped forward again.

"Hans has no real face of his own," he said. "He cannot express his own emotions, so he mimics those around him."

Elsa felt winded by the information, yet immediately retracted to herself when she realized how absurd it sounded.

"I've never heard of such a curse," she accused.

"We honestly aren't sure if it is one," Ansa spoke again. She held her trembling hands to her chest as Kasper wrapped his own around her shoulders and comforted his wife. Despite the kind gesture, Elsa could only feel herself getting more impatient.

"So you mean to say, what? Everything he does is fake? His emotions, his actions? Empty?" Elsa had a hard time wrapping her head around the concept, much less believing it. She felt betrayed by them, yet at the same time their sincerity anchored her to her spot and kept Elsa from storming out of the room as she desperately wanted to do. She felt like a fool for listening.

"Hans' emotions are as real as anyone else's," the king spoke now, defending his brother with slight venom to his tone. He stepped forward and loomed over Elsa. It was only in that moment she felt genuine fear of his presence, and took a timid step back. He relaxed after a pause. "He just… can't express his _own." _

"So he _reflects _those around him?" Elsa questioned. Why was she still standing here? Why didn't she leave? Clearly they were telling her this to try and keep her from doing whatever it was they assumed she wanted to do to Hans. She'd already relented she would not execute him - there was no need to defend him with a fabricated sickness. She shook her head.

"Hans tried to kill _both_ my sister and I, without remorse, and _take over _Arendelle. How can you possibly prove that as nothing more than mimicking?" she grew frustrated and it was beginning to show as snow began to fall around them. The king and queen drew close together in fear, and after a heavy sigh Elsa waved her hand and dissipated the snow.

"We can't," Kasper spoke now, his expression flat. Elsa's face scrunched up in anger as she looked up at him, demanding retribution. Before she could speak, Ansa answered for her husband.

"Please, just… see for yourself," she pleaded with Elsa. "Hans resides in the castle-" Ansa began, then paused when she realized the panic that immediately entered her posture, and quickly corrected herself. "Don't worry, he's restrained. We have him chained in the lower dungeon of the castle."

Elsa's attention now shifted to the fact they had imprisoned their own brother. It struck her that she wasn't sure she could do the same were Anna in his place. She looked to the king in slight confusion and sympathy.

"Your brother is in chains…?" she echoed the shock on his face. He couldn't answer her question, and turned to his wife and spoke something indiscernible to her ear. She nodded and turned to Elsa. Kasper left the room without so much as another word, leaving Elsa standing beside the queen.

"It's for his own good," Ansa answered for him once Kasper had disappeared up the stairs. "As you said, he committed treason on your kingdom," she reminded Elsa. Obviously it was not something they had wanted to do, but merely out of royal obligation to their allied kingdom of Arendelle. Elsa felt guilty despite herself.

"There's… no need to chain him like an animal," Elsa finally admitted after a solemn pause. She knew what it felt like to be imprisoned, and she wouldn't wish that on anyone. Not even Hans. If he had been in chains this entire time…

She didn't want to think about it.

"We would keep him restrained regardless," Ansa seemed to read her thoughts. "Our decision had nothing to do with Arendelle, Majesty," she said quite plainly. Her eyes darted to the stairwell Kasper had disappeared to, as if she feared he was listening in to their conversation. "I'm sorry, he- " she sighed. "Kasper can't seem to face what's happened. He's still in shock."

"Is he going to be all right?" Elsa asked in slight concern as she strained her head to see if he was still on the stairwell. He was not.

"He'll live," Ansa commented, then turned slowly back to Elsa. "He shoulders Hans' mistakes as his own, the poor man. I honestly can't stand to see him this way," she looked down, her eyes and mouth saddened.

"That's why we're sending Hans away," Ansa finally said. Panic shot through Elsa's chest.

"Where are you sending him?" Elsa asked in a slow, nervous voice. Ansa looked over her shoulder again and crossed her hands, then gestured for Elsa to follow her. Elsa obeyed out of instinct, though looked back to the atrium door once more before they disappeared down the winding staircase that led to the dungeon.

"I cannot say, unfortunately…" Ansa relented once they were halfway down. "Though it is far enough away to send my husband into fits of anxiety. He still thinks of Hans as his innocent child brother, it seems."

"If he is so dangerous, why would you let him come to Arendelle?" Elsa voiced suspiciously. Ansa sighed and looked to the floor for a moment, her forehead wrinkled.

"We didn't," she muttered. "He escaped. Kasper thought Hans could handle an unsupervised visit to the atrium. I warned him not to - and of course he disappeared the first chance he got."

They continued descending until they hit the bottom floor, and strode down a dark hallway. She could feel the tremors of panic winding in her chest as she realized how familiar this situation felt. If it hadn't been for Anna, she might be in the same position as Hans, cast out and imprisoned by those too fearful of her to try and help.

"And what do you think of him?" she inquired. It was curious to see how Ansa spoke of Hans out of earshot of her husband. She could already pick up on a slight note of distaste coming from the queen.

"I think he's dangerous," Ansa said quite bluntly. "I don't think he should be allowed to walk freely, even if its within our walls. He's proven already he cannot be trusted, and if we'd done this sooner he might not have attempted on you and your sister's life, Majesty," she paused on the stairs did a quick bow in apology, and raised her head to Elsa, "to be frank."

"I would not trust him outside of these walls, Queen Elsa. You would be a fool to think otherwise," she said quite coldly. Elsa felt particularly struck by her hostility, then considered the idea that perhaps it was more than just frustration for the sake of her husband. Hans' condition was a personal offense to her.

"Has he.. hurt someone before?" she asked the dreadful question after a pause. They had reached another staircase, this one shorter. Ansa turned to her then, and her tight expression turned into a look of dismay.

"Yes, he tried to drown a girl in a river once," she said. "He was fourteen. Kasper made the decision to restrict him to the lower castle after that." Elsa's heart skipped a beat as the frigid words left Ansa's mouth. She covered her own in shock, and crumpled her face.

"You've both kept him here since he was _fourteen_?" Elsa spoke with incredulity. Ansa seemed unaffected by her, and continued until they were on the very bottom floor.

"It was for his own safety," she defended, still walking in stride to a looming door at the end of the hallway. A woman greeted them holding a set of keys, but Ansa held up her hand. The guard paused.

"Majesty," she turned to Elsa, who in turn bore her a look of mistrust, and sighed. "We've dealt with this for many years, and I grow weary of finding reasons to protect a man that clearly has no interest in his own safety. I cannot expect you to understand or comprehend this secret, but I do ask you keep it in perspective. This isn't something Kasper wants other kingdoms to know about."

Elsa's attention to Ansa had shifted to the background as her eyes fell on a figure crouched in the otherwise empty prison through a narrow, barred window. Ansa moved beside her, though Elsa could not remove her strained gaze from the motionless man on the floor.

"We knew explaining in a letter would not suffice - you needed to see it for yourself," she murmured.

Elsa approached the door with great caution, her body tightened in anticipation. She already recognized his red hair and torn, battered grey cloak hanging around his shoulders. He sat motionless, with only the occasional shift of his shoulders to indicate life.

"When he's by himself, he sits like that. Motionless. Dead," she mouthed the last word with contempt. "He only reacts if someone else is in the room with him."

"He's really been down here his entire life, hasn't he?" Elsa's voice broke in pain as she witnessed a mirror of herself sitting in the room.

"You've seen what he can do - no monster so terrible should be let loose on the world. This way at least keeps him alive and safe."

"This isn't living," Elsa spoke before she could stop herself. "There is no life behind imprisonment." She turned back to the door and wrapped one hand around the bars, looking inside. He hung there, lifeless and limp, and stared at the floor. "I'd like to go in," she demanded.

"I don't think that's a good idea-" Ansa started, but Elsa turned her challenging eyes to the woman.

"It wasn't a request," she spoke low and dangerous. Ansa, realizing her position, slowly backed off and grudgingly nodded to the guard woman to open the door. She only offered one word of advice to Elsa before she stepped inside.

"Don't let him in, whatever you do," she warned.

Elsa stepped into the frigid room and felt the wind rush behind her as the door shut and locked. Hans' head slowly lifted from his shoulders as he looked up to Elsa.

"You're here…" he breathed.


	4. Behind Caged Walls

**Author's Note: **I wanted to give a_ big_ thank you to my reviewers and friends for making some wonderful and very helpful suggestions to add more richness to the story's theme! I'm so excited to use them in the future, and also excited to write the first chapter from Hans' perspective, as per my husband's lovely suggestion. This was a feat to write, but I hope it helps elaborate more on Hans' curse.

* * *

Breath escaped his lips in drawling threads of white. He stared at the mist as it dissipated and rose into the highest corners of the stone walls around him. The steady drip of water coupled with the comforting backdrop of the low, steady hum to create a comfortable silence. This was a familiar place. A safe, quiet solitude.

He focused on the darkness of the stone, blocking out all thoughts of his family, of Arendelle and its queen.

_ Elsa._

A part of him wished he could speak freely to her, just once. She was the closest comfort he had found in himself, a like-minded woman caged within the eternal prison of her own flesh and bones. Except she rose above her cage, while he could never free himself.

With no body in the room to supply him the feelings he desperately wanted, he sunk his head low and shut his eyes tight. There were moments, in the silence, he could feel himself again. Just a spark, but enough to keep him breathing. He felt it in the air, in the flesh of his clenched palms, and within the tired bones of his body. He wanted nothing more than to feel again.

His heart beat steady and even. His breath shuddered, and posture sunk. Perhaps he had wanted to die, he wasn't sure anymore. He had lost a sense of what he truly wanted years ago, but only clung to the knowledge that he needed to be free. Needed to escape. He couldn't stand this prison any longer, even if he drew comfort from its solemn walls.

He had wanted to stay in Arendelle and be happy, would have settled to live life in Anna's perfect image, even if it meant never breaking free. Yet somehow his own curse had twisted against him and turned him against them both. They had both been so brave, so alive. He could have lived off of those feelings for an eternity.

Here he felt nothing but desolation and regret. It encumbered him so greatly he felt crippled; unable to sleep, hardly able to eat. His brother gave off the worst of it, nearly ripping his body and soul apart with every visit until he couldn't take it. Now, all he wanted was to sleep an endless sleep and have this nightmare end. Even in the quiet of his slate-gray heart, he wanted release from this prison. Even if it meant dying.

Then, he felt a rush of anticipation - sympathy - and finally fear as a new body stepped into his realm. Wind rushed beneath her feet, and by the chill that prickled his skin he already knew who had come to his tomb to wish him away.

"You're here…" he breathed.

He felt her pain, her fear, but most of all the underlying desperation to be angry at him for what he'd done. She sucked in a breath and held a tense hand to her chest, unconsciously hiding her body as if it might lessen her appearance. It never would.

"I had to see for myself," her voice was shaken but built on the foundations of anger that slowly began to blossom in her chest. She was remembering the fjord. Good.

"Have you come here to kill me, Queen Elsa?" he spoke in a bitter, low tone echoing what he knew remained in her subconscious. She had considered it many times. By the vindication of her tone, the tenseness of her hands - she wanted him to suffer for what he'd done.

"I haven't decided," she answered honestly, her tone now searching for ground. She became braver, colder. The temperature began to drop as her grudge sunk deep into her skin and poisoned her. "I want to know if you're sorry first," she elected in a frigid whisper.

"You're wasting your time," he said only what she already knew. His tone was venomous, though controlled. "I don't give out apologies, Majesty," he mouthed with contempt, his eyes narrowed at the ground. He could feel the anger rising like a storm, and just as it reached its peak the wind began to sweep around them once more. Rubble trembled beneath her feet, and soon ice clawed its way across the stone in vein-like clusters.

_ More…_

"You tried to _murder _my sister," Elsa ground out, her trembling voice barely contained. The wind had picked up now, and he realized snow was beginning to form between the gusts. He smiled and raised his head.

"She deserved it," he snarled at her. "Weak and pathetic, just like you!" The air around her began to turn white until it churned about them in a gale of frigid ice and snow. The guards had taken notice now, though Elsa's rage grew too great. She sent a spark behind and sealed the door shut before they could get it open, now advancing on Hans in her feral state. A growl writhed on her lips.

"How _dare_ you!" she shouted above the howling wind so powerful it nearly lifted him from the floor. "I am the _Queen of Arendelle _and you will listen!" He reveled in the fury, drank it in like poison. It filled his veins and pulsed like fire in his heart. He straightened up until he looked fully at her, his face still contorted in mocking anger.

"So _kill_ me!" he shouted at her. She paused, though the storm still raged on. He only smiled all the more, his voice edging on hysteria. He was laughing, of all things. "I'm a worthless traitor, a pitiful wretch under your command, Majesty!" he choked out through laughter. Tears now obscured his vision and froze on his cheeks, tightening his skin. He smiled all the more. "KILL ME if you are so certain! I deserve to die!" he screamed with every ounce of energy in his body.

In that next instant the storm froze mid-flight and suspended itself. Grief immediately entered his chest as he watched the snarl disappear from her face.

"Why are you crying?" she croaked out, completely startled. The anger had left her body in an instant, replaced by confusion. The smile disappeared from his own face as he dropped his head, his laughter shifting into sobs that wracked his body.

"I-I'm sorry," he murmured. An old pain bloomed in his body in defiance to his actions. He fought against it, desperate to at least let her know. She_ had _to know. He choked on his tears, wracked by his own guilt, his fears. It began tearing his body apart from the inside the more he cried. "I'm sorry, I'm _so_ _sorry_," he wailed. "I never meant to hurt you."

When he raised his head next, her fear took over the room in rapid succession. Black ice had begun to spread across his face and eyes. He could feel it burning his insides. He strained against it, desperate to let her see.

"I'm sorry," he smiled in a withered voice, still shifting between laughing and crying. The wind had begun to pick up again as she let her fear get the best of her, and soon after he couldn't withhold it anymore. The black veins retracted from the sides of his face, his flesh, and immediately after he gasped and dropped his head back low to regain his energy.

"You _are_ cursed," she spoke. The words had been so quiet they carried with the wind, but he had heard them - down into the confines of his soul and ringing in his ears. He knew, and had always known. He looked back at her, showing her the fear written on her face. It only made it worse.

In that moment a rapid succession of beats pounded on the iron door. Kasper's fear hit him in the chest long before he could see his terrified face.

"_Hans! _Are you all right?" he shouted for him. "Open this door immediately! You will not _touch_ my brother!" he turned his ire on her - the ice queen. Elsa's attention shifted to the door, but rather than fear he felt resolution and strength pulling from her fingers. He breathed in deep and looked at the tensed back of his liberator. Light silhouetted her form as that of a guardian like in the legends. She looked surreal.

"No," she sounded unsure, but he could feel it. She was certain. Though her heart was pounding and body trembling, she had no fear of the men on the other side of the door.

"He's coming with me," she finally spoke, her voice gaining momentum. Kasper stopped banging and throwing himself against the frozen door to look at them both through the gaps in the barred window.

"_Don't do this_," he ground out, desperation cracking his voice. He looked at his brother. "Hans, _look at me_, please. Stay here. Don't do this." Elsa stepped in front of Hans and held out her arm, blocking his view.

"I won't see this go on any longer," she told Kasper. "I'm taking him back to Arendelle. _Tonight_." She stared down his brother with righteous absolution. "You will not stop me," she shook her head at him, and he swore he saw a small grin betray her lips.

Elsa then threw her arm forward and created a five-foot thick wall of ice between the door and themselves, effectively blocking their entry. She paused to ensure they could not see or break through the other side, then turned to Hans. He waited with baited breath on the floor, breathing as rapidly as she.

"This may not ever change how I feel about what you've done to my sister," she knelt in front of him, "but I won't let them make the mistake my father made with me." She sounded so sure of herself, Hans was powerless to deflect her. Every part of him believed she was right, that this was the right course of action, that he did not defy a single gesture.

She managed to break his cuffs with relative ease. He winced when the ice burned the fringes of his flesh, but said nothing.

"Can you walk?" she asked. He rubbed his sore wrists once his hands were free, and nodded deafly to her. She grabbed hold of his arm and led him to the far wall with the window.

"Where does that lead?" she asked. Vague shouts came from the other side of the ice wall. A thunderous boom came from the other side, letting Hans know they had found the battering ram.

"Uh, the atrium," he said once his attention was drawn from the door. He looked at her, sensing her slight panic and urgency. "Can you break through it?" he asked.

"I can try," she pressed her mouth together and took a step back. He held up one arm and turned his head away when the blast hit the wall. Rubble burst from either side, and after the dust cleared there was a small but substantial hole for them both to climb through.

"I'll help you up," he immediately offered while standing under the hole to hoist her up. She didn't pause to protest, quickly climbing onto his grasping hands, then reached down after him. Though she tried her best to help, he managed to pull himself up by his own strength, only thankful for her yanking hands when he nearly slipped while working his legs up onto the ledge.

"Thanks," he grunted when they finally managed to climb onto the grass. They were in the southeast corner of the atrium gardens, if he remembered correctly. Once he'd helped her up, he looked about in an attempt to get his bearings. He wasn't used to being outside at night.

"This way," he decidedly pointed to once he'd figured the best direction to exit from. Elsa took lead, glancing back once to make sure he was following, and began running towards the pathway. Halfway to the closed archway, they were met with a dozen armed guards with crossbows ready. He barely had time to duck from one, and a second nearly took Elsa out. She drew ice barriers between them as he'd seen at the ice palace, and soon enough they were sprinting again along the courtyard, a thick wall of ice building with every step.

"We won't get out on foot," he spoke her silent fear mid-run. They were panting for breath, already exhausted from the run.

"The stable is this way, right?" she demanded. He nodded once they came to a brief stop, then thrust back into a sprint with her arm clutching his jacket to ensure he was still following. She wore no gloves.

_ She's learned to control them… _he thought in surprise.

Once at the stables, he led her directly to the stall where they kept the horses. "Whatever transport brought you here will be far too slow, you'll need horses," Hans began while pulling some leads and saddles from the wall. Elsa suddenly froze and looked around her in alarm.

"What, what is it?" Hans asked.

"Oh _no_, Theo - my driver," she panicked. Her dread filled the room in sudden weight as she turned around in circles.

"Calm down," he eased and moved away from the latch to try and assuage her. Just as he reached out, a figure shifted in the dark and moved forward. Elsa turned and jumped back against Hans, and he quickly reached for his belt only to realize his sword was gone. Her hand was already raised.

"M'lady?" a withered, old voice called from the dark. A tweedy man with sagging eyes and a large nose appeared in the dark with a small lantern in hand. Elsa immediately relaxed, as did Hans.

"_Theo_," she breathed in relief. Then, panic returned when she remembered their urgency. "We have to hurry, we have to-" she paused to listen for the sound of shouting guards in the distance. "We're leaving," she decided. Theo's eyes peeled away from Hans, his mouth agape, before he nodded in understanding and moved to help.

With Hans' help, it took only a few minutes to ready the saddles. Hans helped them lead the two horses to the back courtyard and through a narrow gate that led into a game forest. He ducked his head low under a branch and patted the side of his whinnying horse, Sitron, to help ease his nervousness.

Once they reached an open trail in the woods, he helped Elsa onto her horse with Theo clinging behind before mounting his own.

Hans set off in a gallop through the forest with Elsa behind. He knew how to navigate these woods far better than she could, or at least he hoped he would. There was a heavy sense of apprehension hanging in the air as they sped through the dark, lines of trees blurring past, and dead silence between the three.

He could see the torchlight long before it reached them, bobbing through the forest in clusters of red. He came to a slow trot and observed the lights at a distance, Elsa pulling alongside.

"What do we do now?" she asked.

"I know another way," Hans relented with a tick of his jaw and curt yank of the reigns to turn Sitron in the other direction. They sped along the opposite direction, dodging and ducking through the trees. It took an eternity to break from the wooded landscape so much it felt like a labyrinth at times. Finally, the trees broke away to reveal a stone plateau overlooking a steep waterfall.

"Across that river," he pointed and began to trot alongside the cliff to reach the shallow bank. Halfway to it, noise came from their right and out of the trees materialized a group of guards.

"Over here!" the captain immediately shouted. Hans reared back on his horse. Elsa was behind him - closer to the men. Before she had a chance to even raise her hand, he turned and charged his horse directly into the throng of men. They hadn't expected him to stampede, and shouted before scattering in every direction. He circled around, and felt one of the guards attempt to drag him from the horse. He brought his heel up and kicked the man swiftly in the chin before turning to gallop back to Elsa's side.

"Let's go," he clenched his jaw and started immediately across the river, Elsa soon following behind in slight shock.

Eventually they rode far enough away that the shouting disappeared, and eventually any signs of pursuit all together. He knew of a nearby village that would have a ship suitable enough to ferry back to Arendelle long before his brother or his men reached them. As they broke through the other side of the forest, he paused to look back at the city glittering below in the valley. Elsa paused and turned her horse around, exchanging a look of hesitation with him.

"I know it might be pointless to ask, but is this what you want?" she sounded entirely sincere. He needed to believe his answer meant something as well. He searched her for some shred of himself, and found it wasn't terribly difficult to find.

"Yes," he swallowed before turning his back to his brother's kingdom and disappearing down the other side of the hill.

_ I know I want to be free._


	5. Betrayed

**Author's Note: **This was a hard chapter to write, especially because Elsa is so torn up over hurting her sister like that. Sorry no real presence of Hans yet! He'll pop up soon enough, though. It was important to establish the relationship between Elsa and Anna after this all went down. I didn't want to forget about that because Anna is more important than anyone to Elsa.

* * *

The ride home took less time than she'd thought, much to Elsa's relief. From the moment they left the docks until they reached the harbor in Arendelle, she'd spent the journey across the water pacing from bow to stern, worrying if the king would send ships after her - or worse, sail for Arendelle with intentions of starting a war. When they reached the untouched harbor, she breathed a sigh of relief, only to have it sucked from her body again as a new issue arose - that of announcing the return of a traitor to Arendelle's doorstep.

Upon entry to the docks, she was first greeted by a small cluster of eager citizens, only to see most if not all of their faces draw back in shock when Hans stepped up right alongside her - curious to see what the commotion was about - and smile down at the people.

Because of their uneasiness, she was able to leave the docks relatively unmarked, other than suffering the suspicious and frightened stares of the residents who now hung back in dead silence as the Queen and the traitor of Arendelle walked by. She forced her head high and pushed out all anxiety from her mind, rather for her own safety than Hans'. Regardless, he matched her poise in easy stride and kept calm and silent as they made their way to the castle.

The closer they got to the entrance, the more people began to whisper. A long succession of crowds had lined up along the courtyard, all staring and murmuring amongst themselves. She heard Hans' name muttered hundreds of times over from indiscernible sources. She could feel her heart beginning to pace, threatening to break the edge of reserve she wavered on. As they climbed the long, slow steps to the entrance, she felt a small squeeze slip around her upper arm and rest there. She turned in her surprise and slight appall to find Hans offering a small but earnest look of reassurance in her direction. She squeezed her brow together and breathed out through her nose, then looked to the front again, regaining her resilience just as he released his hold and allowed her to walk ahead.

Once inside, Hans was escorted wordlessly by her guards to her old room on the second floor. She had since taken up residence in her parents' old bedroom, unable to face the memories that her cage of a room once held. It made her anxious just to stand in it anymore. It had been effectively full-proofed because of her powers, and would serve as a fortified albeit more comfortable alternative to Hans' previous enclosure. Out of extra concern, she placed two guards outside of his room at all times, ordered to keep him there until she had the energy to deal with him. She wasn't prepared to let him roam the halls freely just yet. Besides, there was still the matter of speaking to Anna…

Once Elsa reminded herself of such a great hurdle, she felt her stomach drop again in fear. Snow had begun to fall over her head, and after an irritable wave of her hand she made it disappear. She had been pacing her room for only a few minutes, lost in a prism of frustration over how to approach talking to Anna, when the doors to her bedroom slung open and in charged her sister with a concerned Kristoff in tow. Her eyes were mad with righteous fury and teeth bared - she was on a warpath, and Elsa now stood directly in her line of fire.

"How COULD YOU?!" she screamed.

"Anna, _tone!_" Elsa warned fruitlessly. She was matched only in fire by the icy tone of her elder sister and queen. Anna slung her hand through the air, fuming.

"No, I _won't_, because you brought t-that… that _MONSTER_ back here!" To _OUR_ HOME! How can I _possibly_ stay calm!?" she broke at the end of her passionate rebuttal, nearly crumbling into tears. Kristoff reached awkwardly for her, though unsure how to comfort Anna in such a state. He managed to rest his hands on her shoulders for just a moment before she jerked herself away and stormed forward, lit anew.

"I mean I was worried _sick_," she continued on, "You go _all _the way there, just to _bring him back here?_ _Why?!_" she choked, full of pain and confusion that wrung out in the tensed expression of her face and unsung tears shining in her eyes. It broke Elsa's heart to see her that way. Anna searched her stoic face for answers, and found none. When Elsa said nothing, she watched her expression work into a look of epiphany, then stormed forward in righteous vindication.

"I _hope_ it's only for an execution, because _that's_ what he _deserves_," she ground out. Kristoff moved forward again to help her, but this time she physically shoved him away and stepped adjacent to Elsa, her eyes boring holes through her older sister.

"Anna, _please_ calm down," Kristoff weakly interjected, again trying to physically pull her away.

"No, I _won't_," she said defiantly. Anna viciously slung him off and clenched her teeth before glaring at Elsa again. "_Tell me _that's why he's here," she demanded by the weight of each syllable, her eyes shining with uncertain tears that hung on the word she desperately waited to hear from her sister.

Elsa contemplated her sister's face, her stance, and everything it meant to tell her no. She knew this would break her heart, she'd known it the moment she broke the cuffs from his hands and turned her back on her sister for her own selfish reasons. But this was something she could no longer reverse, and it was now her duty to see it through. She clenched her jaw and straightened herself before looking down to her sister with the regality of a queen.

"I did not bring him here to kill him, Anna," she worded evenly. The expression that fractured Anna's face in that moment sent a cold shard of ice right through Elsa's heart, piercing her to the very core. Anna's mouth cracked open in denial, barely shuddering on a word before it fell from her lips entirely. She threw her hands into the air and stormed across the room, floundering in premature rage. Kristoff thought better of himself and exchanged a knowing glance with Elsa before quietly excusing himself. Once he shut the door behind him, Elsa turned wide eyes to her frustrated sister.

"I'm _sorry_," Elsa pleaded. Anna was hunched over her desk now, the tears wavering on the edge of her gaze.

"No you're not," her grief-stricken voice wavered, "if you were sorry you wouldn't have _brought_ him here." She looked at Elsa then, her tears more powerful than any rage-induced fit her sister could procure. "Why would you _do _this to me, Elsa?" her crumbling sister whispered.

"I'm not doing this to spite you," Elsa's voice picked up a note of jealous authority now, frustrated that Anna would so quickly assume she meant every action as a personal offense. Her expression became lax a moment later, full of strained earnestness and a desperation to make her sister remember how much she cared. "I would _never_ do anything to intentionally hurt you, Anna…" she softened her tone, her eyes pleading with her sister. "You _know_ that."

"Then why did you do it?" Anna sniffed, still trying to collect herself. Elsa hadn't considered her answer. In truth, she wasn't entirely sure of her purpose yet, or why she chose to bring him here. All she knew is that she _had_ to remove him from that prison on the Isles - she refused to regret that choice, even at the cost of her sister's grief. And at the cost of her own.

"I-I needed to know I was right about something," she elected in a timid voice. This was something she had yet to share with Anna, even after the eternal winter had been lifted from the city. Anna still did not know why Elsa was forced to stay away from her for all those years. Why she was forced to live in isolation.

"About what?" Anna turned her bleary, red eyes to her sister - and by the innocent tone of her voice, she could almost imagine her as a small child again in that moment. If only it were so simple as a child's apology. She might have been more forgiving then. But she had to tell her, she _needed_ to. It was the only way she might possibly understand.

"Anna, there's something you need to know about," she breathed out. Anna's eyes widened in slight fear and curiosity. Then, when she breathed in again, Elsa closed her eyes and told Anna why she shut her out all those years ago. When the story was finished, Anna held a hand to her mouth in shock as her eyes filtered her fractured memories of that time, and how it fit into her understanding as a child. She gave her a moment to collect herself.

"So all that time…" she trailed off. Elsa nodded.

"I couldn't tell you because I was too afraid to hurt you again," she held her body by the confines of her arms and turned to the side, too ashamed to look at Anna. "I never wanted to shut you out." A long, heavy pause hung between the sisters. Once Anna absorbed this new information, Elsa turned and spoke up before she could remember the reason they were there.

"I need to know that father was _wrong_ about my powers," she turned to Anna. Her tone shook in the slightest. "And about others like me."

"You mean how he thought you were too dangerous?" Anna asked in a small voice. Elsa nodded. Anna immediately screwed up her face as she filtered the other end of her statement, then looked up accusingly. "What did you mean, _others like you?_" she narrowed her gaze, then immediately tensed in fear when her conscious worked out the only possibly answer. "Wh- you mean _Hans? _He has _powers?" _she sounded appalled and frightened all at once. Elsa's chest tightened with guilt as she realized how selfish this was, and how much it would hurt Anna. She _needed_ to see this through, though, if not for Hans then for herself.

"Not like my powers specifically," Elsa replied while running bare fingertips across the inside of her palm. She looked back to Anna. "But his can be dangerous without meaning to be all the same," she explained. It was a strange relief to hear out loud, knowing she wasn't the only one who suffered with the ordeal. Her sister, however, was denying the news by every thread in her body. She was backing away now, already sensing where this conversation was heading. Anna began to slowly shake her head.

"_Don't_ tell me…." she spoke in coupled fear and rejection. Elsa, realizing she was attempting to leave, stepped closer and raised an uncertain hand towards her sister.

"Anna please, you _have_ to understand," she pressed her mouth together hard, "he's been cursed by something - it's not what we thought." Elsa detested the words even as they left her mouth, for every syllable only pushed Anna away further. She now clung to the door, desperate; betrayed. Tears flowed down her face freely.

"He's cursed to only reflect the emotions of other people; he can't show his own. The king kept him locked in a dungeon for thirteen years because of it. He's not _dangerous _unless you _make_ him to be," Elsa tumbled out her words in one breath, frantic to find a simpler way to explain it but unable to. She now understood the uncertainty of Ansa and Kasper when they tried to describe it to her. It was only now she had truly come to grips with it while listening to the elaboration spiel from her own lips. It still sounded ridiculous. Perhaps-

"If you could just come _see_ what I mean-" she brightened, hoping perhaps Anna would be more receptive to witness Hans' curse the way _she_ had. Anna's faced tensed up even more, and quickly drew a frightful hand to her chest. She looked at Elsa in horror.

Elsa's heart thundered against her chest. All she wanted was to have Anna understand, but by the wounded look in her eyes, she was anything but. She reached out for Anna, who turned rigid and yanked her hands away before Elsa could grasp them. She pulled her hands back to her chest in defeat, tears now filling her own eyes. "Please, you _have_ to understand…" she pressed her balled hands into her chest and begged her sister. Anna's face tempered into a deep and quiet rage unearthed by that final plea, contorting her mouth and eyes into an expression that tore Elsa's heart in half. Then she mouthed those frigid, hateful words on wavering lips to wound her sister with a memory greater than she ever remembered.

"I will _never_ forgive you for this, Elsa."

With that, Anna opened the door and slammed it shut behind her - separating them forever.


	6. Heavy in Your Arms

**Author's Note: **Hgnnn I beat myself to hell and back about this chapter... trying to volley between the curse and Elsa's regret and then her views about killing people with kindness essentially lol. This was REALLY hard to write, and I'm still not sure of myself.. but I suppose it's best I just keep plowing forward. That's probably the nicest hug Hans' has ever gotten in his life lol.

* * *

Later that afternoon Elsa decided to brave the halls to see if Hans had settled into her old room. After the fight with her sister, she could hardly focus on other matters, repeatedly questioning herself and her judgment until it drove her to near madness. Finally, she decided it was something she would have to live with and gritted her teeth before rising to her feet and stepping outside of her door.

She paused outside of her old door on the second floor, brief panic blooming as she looked up at its yawning structure. She had stared from the other side of that door for countless years, wondering when and if she could ever leave such a lonely place. Then she imagined that horrible cell, with no furniture, no lights, and nothing but gray stone for company. Surely this was a better prison for him; but it was just that, wasn't it? A prison. She was troubled by this thought, and after a slow sigh she wrapped her hand around the metal handle and opened the door.

What she expected to find was very different than the scene before her. Rather than sitting motionless as before, Hans hardly constrained himself on the edge of the bed facing the door. His fingers were dug into his hair like knives and his entire expression strained in sheer panic. She left the door ajar in her shock, then immediately turned to the guards outside.

"Has anyone been in here?" she demanded. The guards looked at one another, as if they weren't sure they should answer. She creased her brow, and one of them straightened.

"Princess Anna, Majesty-" one said, then glanced away in shame.

"She didn't go inside!" the other one jumped in. Elsa looked from the two, slightly surprised, then back to Hans.

"She tried to go in, but we refused her - as you ordered," the other nodded to the queen. She thanked them with a mute nod, then shut the door to give them a moment of privacy. The moment she turned around to face him again, Elsa jumped back in fear and clung to the door, aghast by the sight.

"Your _face_-" she took in a sharp breath as the black veins continued crawling across his features, turning his skin a glassy, ashen color. It began to engulf his temples and jaw line, clawing its way up his features. The whites of his eyes now blackened, and around the rim his irises began to bleed bright red. He continued to stare desolately at the floor, gripping his head so fierce that tendons shone in each finger. His clothes were disheveled, coat abandoned by the edge, and hair still hanging loose and wild from frustrated fingers grabbing at it. It looked as if his skin were _cracking_. Elsa could hardly stand to watch, much less endure such a sight. "P-Please, you'll hurt yourself," she asked in a weak voice. She winced when his skin began to tear at the seams like fractured ice.

"This was a mistake," he spoke in a low, uneasy bellow that carried heavy across the room. The black veins spread to his mouth, cracking them apart. He ran his hands through his hair and grabbed fistfuls of it, nearly tearing it out from the force of his grip. "You should have _never_ brought me here - _I shouldn't be here_," he continued in that mournful tone.

Elsa took a step forward despite her growing fear, and glanced up as the ceiling begin to shudder in the slightest. Darkness began to descend upon the room like a blanket despite the high noon sun outside of the window. It shook the windows, the tables, the bed. It collected at his feet like a pool, darkening his skin more. He truly looked like a monster in that moment, with fractured black skin and red eyes peering out from an empty abyss.

"You're breaking…" she mouthed the revelation in nothing more than a small whisper. The realization struck her finally that he was not mirroring her, or _anyone _in that moment. He was speaking for himself, and now he was being punished for fighting against the current of a poison that claimed hold of his very soul. If he didn't stop soon, he might shatter into a thousand pieces. She would have brought him all this way for nothing.

The black veins spread to his hands, turning his skin a glassy, slate-gray as it began crawling up his arms in hungry shards. He looked down at them in the same moment she took notice, and stared at himself in broken wonder. "All I wanted to feel was something other than pain and regret for once in my life," he mused in that same, dead tone. "I wanted to feel joy, _wonder_…" he began to tremble as the fractures spread faster.

His wild eyes stayed locked to the floor. "I never meant to hurt either of you," he murmured. His upturned, blackened hands began to shake and split open. "Why, _why_ did you do this," he broke back into his repetitive wail, then sunk his head low to cradle his face. "_Why_ do you care what happens to me, after everything I've done?" he muttered into his hands.

Elsa stepped forward and looked down at him, her expression ungiving to the emotions beneath. He turned to her - bleary-eyed, pained - and crumpled his face in guilt.

"Because I need to believe I can bring back someone who fell as far as I did," she regarded him facelessly, then knelt down in front of Hans and touched his knee. "Because even someone like you deserves to prove they can be better," she looked him directly in the eyes, unchanging and fearless. "I need to believe that, because otherwise we have _all_ fallen," she finally broke from her empty expression, tensing in the slightest.

His stricken eyes searched across her face, from her kind eyes and stern-set mouth to the slight wrinkle of her forehead. Warmth struck his chest, buckling him under the pressure until he couldn't take it. Hans hunched forward and let her emotions overpower his grief. The blackness crawled out of his vision, then slowly receded from his hands and face. He struggled to regain himself, completely powerless under the queen's presence. Her mercy took hold of him like the arms of the heavens, pulling him beneath until all he could see was the sunlight. He basked in it.

"My mother once told me that if we do not have mercy on those that have wronged us the most, then we have nothing at all," she tilted her head to look at Hans, who now shied from her gaze. Small clusters of glassy black clung to his jaw. He still held onto the fringes of his guilt, though his tone began to deflect the sadness as easily as Elsa.

"I've hurt you more than I've helped," he admitted. She stretched a ghost smile across her features, barely contained but visible to him nonetheless.

"Even so - I think you're capable of being better," she shook her head, waving away the last thread of his concern with the smile in her eyes. "You just need a little kindness," she asserted her point, then sat back for a moment in thought. He hated himself for how easily he gave into Elsa's strengths - her bravery, her selflessness, and most of all her kindness. It melted away the shame that burned in his chest like fire over water, and even in this state he still knew he needed to feel it. He deserved it. Yet, it was so much easier to slip into Elsa's mind - to live in the echo of her presence. It felt so safe.

"I do hope my mother was right about that…" Elsa trailed off while searching the windowpane with a wistful sort of sadness. She must be thinking about her sister. Whenever she returned her attention to Hans, the frown had vanished - replaced by an imperceptible optimism that so infected both of the sisters - with Elsa being the lesser, though the moments were much more intense whenever she revealed it.

She let out a long sigh and looked down at her hands now, contemplating something. Uneasiness filled the air around them, and she - not revealing her thoughts - looked up to Hans from her seat on the floor and tensed her brow.

"I'm going to try something," she announced midway through her motion. She didn't warn him or prepare herself, because she knew if she thought too long on it then her heart would reject it. Instead, she moved mechanically forward and embraced Arendelle's traitor with both arms.

At first, they pressed against one another in rigid, obvious discomfort. Elsa forced herself to wrap her arms around his neck, hoping it might help her believe this was a kind gesture. Perhaps _doing_ it might inspire the feeling, or so she had hoped. Now she crouched in front of a man that had tried to usurp her throne and held him in her arms. All she could think about was her sister in that moment, how upset and angry she had been to learn of Elsa's decision. How much more this broke her heart and separated them both with every little gesture of mercy she extended to this man.

Then she remembered the fjord, and the anguish she had felt over thinking her sister was dead. In those next few moments, she had turned just in time to see her sister raise a defiant hand to Hans' sword and turn to solid ice. She had given up her life to protect Elsa, and all Elsa had done was freeze her heart. And then, she had wept over her sister's frozen corpse, only to find arms winding around her body and hugging her back. Love had saved her, and brought back Anna in her arms. It had melted the winter on the city.

As the joy of her memory swept over Elsa, she felt a change in Hans' demeanor. Ever so slowly, she felt his arms curling around her body. She had lost herself in running thoughts, only to find the present now halted her completely. She was in Hans' arms, hugging him like her sister. No, not like her sister, this was different - she was hugging a man. A stranger to her in some ways, but someone she knew as well as the barred windows of her gilded cage. Someone who knew what it felt like to be alone, and afraid. To be called a monster.

Elsa closed her eyes and let her tension go and hugged him close. She let herself forget for a moment the reasons why she'd brought him here and what he'd done. She just wanted comfort in knowing someone knew what it was like, and could accept her all the same. She didn't want to be afraid anymore. More than that, she needed to know at least one person in Arendelle didn't hate her for what she'd done. Hans wrapped his arms fully around her now until she was melded against his chest and collar, held close. Her eyes widened for the briefest of moments, then tensed when she felt relief wash over her weary body for the first time since the fjord. She sniffed back budding tears and buried herself in this strange home of mutual comfort - somewhere she could feel safe. She didn't want to leave.

His face was buried into her shoulder when he spoke, nearly broken again by the relief that overflowed from her embrace.

"Thank you," he murmured. She pressed a hand to the back of his head, welcoming him in. Tears shined in her eyes as she looked up to the heavens and felt the poisoned guilt leave her body.

"It's okay," she told him, still holding him in her arms.

_ You're safe here._


	7. Fire on the Tongue

**Author's Note: **Another hard chapter for me to write, mainly because it really, truly breaks my heart to write fights between Elsa and Anna... though it is a necessary portion of the story and I would have it no other way. Anna has every right in the world to feel as angry as she does, and I want to make that very prominent in the story. Also the fact that she asks the important questions no one else is willing to haha.

* * *

A month passed and Arendelle somehow remained in-tact despite the threat of King Kasper declaring war on her doorstep or the fact that she still harbored a traitor inside of the castle walls. As the weeks passed and no ships appeared on the horizon, she found herself slowly unraveling from the tight spring she had wound herself in. When the fourth week passed without consequence - not even so much as a messenger - she began to wonder if they intended to pursue her at all. It then occurred to her that perhaps the King and Queen of the Isles were relieved to be rid of their cursed prince, and all the burdens that came with it. And there were _many_ that Elsa had become accustomed to in those four wretched weeks.

Between juggling with the constant issue of Hans and her daily obligations as the queen, she was exhausted. Her shoulders soon bore an impossible weight, none of which she dared let anyone else know of - least of all her sister. Knowing that didn't make it any easier, nor considering the idea that maybe she would have less to deal with were the gates still shut. She soon had to cut down her interactions with Hans, seeing as her somber mood so often leaked onto his features. It was hard enough bearing it without having to _see_ it. This only worried her more as she considered if Anna were to bump into him in the castle; she hadn't seen much of her sister lately, or Kristoff _or_ Olaf for that matter. She assumed they were all making a point to avoid her and the conspirator that more often clung to her side like an obedient dog in these past weeks.

Though her anxiety had lessened, the responsibility weighed all the more with each passing day she failed to find a way to lift the curse from Hans. With her sister practically absent from the castle, she had dedicated most if not all of her free time to the task of "curing" Arendelle's resident traitor.

Her attempts at reversing whatever afflicted him were proving to be as impossible as Ansa laid out for her. She had led herself to believe that maybe the king and queen hadn't tried hard enough, hadn't looked hard enough - but it was becoming painfully obvious just how true their warnings had been. She had tried the more apparent attempts at first - placing him in front of a mirror, verbally guiding him, and even attempting to use her magic in the mindset that maybe she could pull cursed ice shards from his body.

Her last attempts had left two painful patches of black shards on either side of his temples for over a day. She'd stopped trying after that, nearly resolved as he was to his fate. She wanted to believe Ansa was wrong about Hans, as her own father had been wrong about her. She wanted to believe they just hadn't tried hard enough, hadn't done more to help him. Instead, she found herself feeling just as helpless.

Today was a somber day, and decidedly shirking her duties for the afternoon, Elsa had retreated to the woods behind the castle. She'd carved a secret path from the kitchens into the forest to find some solitude a few weeks prior. Somewhere she could think. Eventually her walks led further and further into the trees until she stumbled upon a clearing, and designated it as her own private hideaway. She retreated to it when her burdens felt the heaviest. Today, that weight fell on the name of Hans. While she had come to accept that maybe she was not the one capable of lifting the curse, it did not make her choice any easier to face. She didn't want to give up, but it felt like there were no other options. She had done all this - hurting her sister again, losing the faith of Arendelle, declaring enemies with the Isles - for _nothing_.

Out of unconscious distraction and a desire to feel more at home with herself, Elsa had begun to create an ice garden of sorts out of the clearing. At first, it started with simple walkways and overhangs. Then, she'd added ice benches to sit on, and eventually began to craft ice flowers to try and brighten her mood. It proved to be a very therapeutic exercise, considering she no longer had her ice fortress to retreat to in the mountains. She was grateful, at least, to have somewhere quiet she could practice her powers. While the residents of Arendelle were entranced by her powers, they quickly grew sick of the cold and she was almost always forced to destroy her winter creations in the end. She missed the comfort of cold wind and snow - at least this might suffice.

Elsa was strolling down a snow path, admiring a crystallized rose bush when she heard footsteps trekking up the path. The wind was already drawn under her feet in fear when the intruder appeared through the underbrush and she recognized his ducked head of red hair.

"Hans," she relaxed, dropping her hands. The air fell still again. "You know you shouldn't walk alone," she chided him. She didn't like the idea of it, but found it a necessary evil to have either herself or a guard present at all times whenever Hans felt the need to explore outside of the castle. Rather for others' safety than to prove a point. While she refused to go to the extremes his brother had resorted to, she recognized the danger of letting him roam alone. Especially considering she could not keep track of where her sister was any longer.

"I'm sorry," he immediately said once he'd looked up. Elsa sighed and touched two fingers to her forehead, then turned back to her frozen garden.

"How did you find your way up here, anyway?" she decidedly changed her train of thought, not wanting to dwell on her concern any longer. He easily moved in stride beside her - a habit he had recently picked up - and clasped his hands behind his back. It was both a bold and insightful act that she had tried her best not to linger on. While he did not mimic her or others exactly, it appeared more that he reflected the chosen person's true character rather than simply reflecting what could be seen from the surface. This proved to be both an unsettling but revealing truth - one she hated to see at times for the weakness it projected back to her by small gestures that he made in her presence. It exposed far too much of herself.

Hans considered her question for a drawling moment. She watched him smile and reach up to admire a snowflake with one, twirling finger. He looked at her.

"You've walked back here enough to leave a pretty visible trail," he remarked. "I wasn't certain at first until I saw the ice on the trees." He jutted a thumb over his shoulder.

"Oh _no_," Elsa glanced back down the trail and realized there were starbursts of ice patched all over the trees where her hands had touched. Though some were beginning to fade, others remained stuck to the bark. She would have to make a conscious effort to control her thoughts before reaching the clearing, else other people were bound to follow her out here. When she looked back, Hans' attention was drawn again to the snow falling from the heavens from an imperceptible location.

"Does it bother you?" she asked in a nervous voice. Elsa had come to realize that her idea of cold was far different than others, and more so that she couldn't understand if her ice magic was too strong for others to endure. For this reason she'd grown very accustomed to keeping it to herself unless someone specifically wanted to see it. Here, she hadn't controlled it - not the weather, the temperature, or the magic. She had no idea if it was too cold for Hans. She could be freezing him for all she knew. Hans instead just smiled and shook his head, still looking to the sky.

"Not in the least," he breathed out a puff of white. His cheeks and nose had turned pink since entering the clearing, though he showed no signs of uneasiness.

"Are you sure it's not because _I'm_ comfortable here?" she persisted. Elsa, along with prior concerns of other people's sensitivity, had to be especially careful with Hans considering he couldn't always point out when his own body was stressed or uncomfortable. He turned and grabbed her bare hands, smiling at her.

"It's fine, really," he emphasized. Elsa's chest jumped when she felt his bare hands hold her own. She quickly pulled them away to cradle back in the safe cocoon of her chest, unsure of how to react. He didn't try to touch her again, and easily opted to clasp his hands behind his back once more. Despite this, she felt her skin burning long after he'd let go.

"Hans, I've been meaning to ask you something," Elsa still cradled her hands together, though she couldn't face looking at him in that moment. She didn't want to see herself any longer.

"What is it?" his tone reflected her unspoken fear almost perfectly. She winced, and rubbed the back of her hands before slowly dropping them to her front.

"If you never meant to hurt either of us, then _why_ didn't you show my sister your curse the way you showed me? Why couldn't you at least _warn _her?" each word struck her throat like shards of ice, burrowing there. She looked up then, and saw her own fear reflected back in his gaze. Maybe it was his own.

"I… couldn't," he said slowly. He started to struggle for words. "I have no control over it happening," he said slowly; carefully.

"You mean that… thing that happened to your face?" she asked in earnest. He just looked at her. His eyes were wide, and his mouth pressed together so tight his flesh turned white. She blinked in surprise.

"Can you not answer my question directly?" she inquired, now taking on a tone of irritation. He continued to stare at her, and she creased her brow in concern. "…you can't, can you?"

"I can speak only very little of it, and only if they already know," he carefully chose his words, avoiding direct phrases that might prevent him from explaining himself.

"I suppose that's a part of a curse, then…" Elsa partly mused to herself with a sigh, turning away. They continued walking through the gardens, Elsa distractedly creating flowers as they went. Hans turned to inspect them each time, admiring their petals. "In that case I don't know if mine truly is a curse, then…" she murmured to herself, a few steps ahead of Hans. "Which only makes it harder to find a cure for yours."

"Can you tell me who did this to you, Hans?" she turned to him anew, her eyes hopeful. He raised from inspecting a cluster of frozen forget-me-nots and furrowed his brow.

"I'm sorry, I can't," he hesitated to say it, almost loathing in the manner that he spoke. It didn't help at all.

Before she could think of a more clever way to find her answers, a voice called from their left.

"I'm pretty sure I saw some snow over here!" an animated, high-pitched voice shouted. Out of the brush shuffled Olaf, his head turned over his stick-arms. "Oh, that's why!" he raised his hands to Elsa, smiling wide. "Hi, Elsa!"

"Olaf you really shouldn't wander back here so often-" a female voice said.

Shortly after followed her sister, head turned, halfway through her sentence when she caught sight of Elsa and Hans standing in the clearing. She froze mid-step and stared at them both, entirely struck in surprise.

"Hullo, Hans!" Olaf greeted him. Hans smiled right back at the little snowman, waving with just as much vigor. Elsa had barely stuck the word in her throat before her sister barreled her shoulders, glared, then thrust herself right back around and began storming down the path.

"Anna, _wait_-" Elsa begged, nearly tripping over her gown to catch up. She paused in her stumble and turned to Hans, who was already in motion to follow her. "Stay here," she raised a demanding hand to him, her wide eyes fearful, then turned and continued after Anna.

"Anna, _please!_" she called again once they were out of the forest. Anna was stalking her way on the outside of the castle towards the river. Elsa made the mistake of reaching for her sister, only to have Anna snatch it away as if scalded. She turned on her, writhing in fury.

"_What_ do you want?" she barked. Elsa's throat tightened as her sister's words hit her in the chest with the force of a stone wall. Tears blurred her vision, and she quickly fought against them in lieu of trying to explain herself.

"I just want you to _underst_-"

"_Understand_, yes _I know_, Elsa," Anna waved her arms in mocking anger and rolled her eyes. "The only thing I _understand_ is that you care more about that heartless _murderer_ more than your own _sister! _You've turned your back on Arendelle, on its people - on _me!_" she shouted.

"No-" Elsa tried, but Anna cut her off. She was too pent-up from countless hours she'd spent dwelling on her anger.

"_No_, I _get it _now, Elsa," she continued. "You _like_ him, I'm not an idiot. That's why you did it in the first place, why you wouldn't let me marry him, and why you wouldn't _believe_ me when I told you what happened before he went after you on the fjord! You _NEVER_ believed me, and now that _MONSTER_ has taken my only sister away from me!"

"T-That's not true…" Elsa's voice was so shaken she could hardly speak. She was too rattled by her sister's speech to hold her ground, barely wavering on the edge of dismay and horror.

"He's _manipulating _you, Elsa," Anna pleaded, now banking on tears of her own as her grief consumed her. "You don't _know_ what he's really like, he's _trying _to turn you away from me!" she wailed, her voice now cracking from her sorrow. "_Please_, _why_ won't you believe me?" she ended with a whimper, her lower lip trembling as the tears began to fall. Elsa felt herself crumbling.

"I'm sorry, I just… can't," Elsa hated the words even as they left her mouth. She shook her head at her sister, heart thundering against her ribs. "I want to believe you, but-" she paused, unsure of how to finish her sentence.

"But _what_, Elsa? Because _Hans_ said so? Because he tells you how _sorry_ he is?" she sounded incredulous now, her voice doubtful. "He's _lying_ to you," she screwed up her face with those words, tears spilling over her gaze. "Why can't you see that?"

Before Elsa could speak up, Hans and Olaf materialized beside them both from the trail in the woods. Olaf was finishing up an elaborate story, and paused when he caught sight of the two sisters standing by the river. Anna immediately retracted into herself, eyes widening in fear when she caught sight of Hans. Elsa ticked her jaw.

"Anna, _stay calm_," her tone spoke with sudden force and anxiety as she gritted her teeth and raised a warning hand to Anna. If Hans started to feed off of her energy-

"Stay _calm?!_" she exploded. Hans turned lucid eyes on her sister, suddenly aware of the other person standing by the river. "You keep that _THING_ by your side, in _OUR home_, and you want me to _stay CALM?_" she pointed an accusing finger at Hans, her snarl already bared on her lips. Hans almost immediately tensed upon visual contact. Elsa locked a frigid hand on his arm, desperate to keep him placated.

"He would _KILL_ you if he had the chance!" she shrieked. "He could do it _right now _and _no one _would know the difference!" Elsa's grip tightened around his arm when she felt his muscles beginning to tense. His expression was rigid.

"Stop it," Elsa ground out, demanding her sister calm herself. She refused to, not realizing the danger she put them further in the longer she released her spiel of accusations and fuel to fire his motions. Elsa now physically held him to his spot.

"_Calm down_," she gritted her teeth, looking from Hans to Anna. "_Both_ of you." Olaf had taken to clinging to Anna's leg in lieu of Hans' blooming anger that now physically shook his body. A terrible smile began to curl on his face.

"Go ahead and do it! Quit hiding and show my sister your real face, you _coward!_" she snarled at Hans. Those were the final words that let loose as he ripped himself from Elsa's grasp and lunged at Anna with the unconstrained fervor of a wild animal.

Anna screamed and fell to her knees. Elsa had only a moment, a brief second of sheer panic that locked her chest and body up in a single motion. When she opened her eyes, her hands were held up, and between then both a great, growing shard of ice encased Hans to his shoulders. It had frozen him mid-air. When Anna opened her eyes again, she held a ghosted scream against her cupped mouth and jumped away from Hans in sheer horror.

Elsa could only the side of his face, but it was enough to witness the black ice spreading across his temples again in fractured scales of glassy black and silver. The sight was enough to frighten Anna into a full motion of terror as she kicked and stumbled to her feet and began rapidly backing away.

"Y-You MONSTER!" she shrieked before bolting across the river towards the other side of the castle. Though Elsa called after her, she was long gone before the final plea fell from her lips. She was standing adjacent to Hans' placid form, now limp in his encasing prison. Quickly realizing herself, she dissipated the ice and caught his body before it fell to the ground. The black scales had not left his face, nor faded, despite the fact he was unconscious. Elsa looked up in panic to the direction her sister and Olaf had disappeared, then back down to the limp body in her arms. Her heart thundered against her ribs in fear as she realized she had absolutely no one to turn to. She was completely alone.

_ Somebody help me._


	8. Unafraid

**Author's Note: **I would like to introduce Kristoff for some much needed face time! And also as a voice of reason between the two angry sisters. Also I wanted to humorously point out that Elsa is literally the last person that will accept this Helsa ship, and it will be long after it's started sinking beneath the waves. Hahahahaha I'm terrible.

* * *

Though she tugged and pulled, Elsa could not manage to drag Hans fast enough. When she managed to shove the kitchen door open, it was still as empty as earlier. Groaning, she adjusted the limp man twice her size to her shoulders, draping him over her back. Her knees almost buckled under her from his weight in comparison to her own. She'd barely made it to the other door across the kitchen (which, undoubtedly, was the longest walk of her life) before she had to lower him back to the floor and catch her breath. She was leaned against the doorframe with one tired arm, hand over her chest, when she looked down to see the glassy scales shift across his temples. Her expression tensed before she reached down and forced herself to pick up his weight once more, slinging his torso over her shoulders.

Elsa had barely made it into the hallway when she spotted Kristoff crossing the adjacent room about twenty paces ahead. She raised a desperate hand and called out.

"Kristoof-!" she was cut off mid-shout when she realized his body was too heavy to hold with one hand, and toppled down to the floor with Hans. Kristoff immediately took notice and jogged down the hall to the strange sight, tilting his head as he looked down at the queen trapped under Hans' back with her face smashed up against his ribs. He wordlessly helped her to her feet, before looking down to the immobile prince still sprawled on the floor.

"What the-" he paused, then looked to Elsa's distraught face. "What happened?" he finally asked once he'd adjusted himself. Elsa turned her attention back to Hans, perhaps contemplating whether or not she'd accidentally hurt him on the fall, then looked back to Kristoff.

"Anna and I were arguing," she relented in a shaken voice, her eyes again turning to Hans in concern. She decidedly knelt beside his still form and ghosted a hand around the black scales that began to spread across his temples. Kristoff took a startled step back when he finally took notice.

"What in the world is _that?_" he tried to contain the fear in his voice, but it was hard not to be disturbed by the sight. The glass on Hans' face shifted again.

"I don't know, honestly. I think it has something to do with his curse," Elsa continued to worry over Hans, going so far as adjusting his arms and head on the floor so it would be more comfortable. If it were Kristoff's choice, he would have left the bastard face-down with arms in every direction. Elsa, however, could not read his thoughts and continued unabashed. "I _told_ Hans to stay in the gardens where we were walking, but he followed me and-" she heaved a sigh and shook her head, covering her face. "It was an absolute mess."

"I'm guessing Anna wasn't thrilled to see him," Kristoff mused. Elsa's lips pressed together as she leaned over and put an ear to Hans' chest. His pulse beat slow, but steady.

Elsa was too afraid to touch the blackened markings in fear Hans might shatter. When she realized she could do nothing about his current state, she sat back on her heels and placed her hands on her knees, gripping tight to the fabric of her dress. She hated feeling this helpless, just sitting here watching it grow worse while she couldn't do a thing about it. It nearly drove her to frustrated tears. Elsa paused in thought for a moment before an idea struck her. She turned to Kristoff in her eagerness, who had decidedly crouched beside her.

"Take me to your grandfather's grove, please-" she reached out and squeezed Kristoff's upper arm. His eyes widened.

"Ohhh _no_," he shook his head and stood up. "I'm not bringing _him_ anywhere," he jutted an accusing finger at Hans' crumpled body on the floor. Elsa's panic spiked again as she climbed to her feet and physically took hold of Kristoff's vest, pleading with him.

"_Please_, Kristoff - you're the _only_ one that knows how to get there. I need your help!" she begged him, her eyes shining with frantic tears. "I can't do this alone," she drove her point home like a knife, her voice cracking in the slightest. He hurriedly batted her off.

"All right, _all right!" _he squirmed out of her grasp and sighed. Kristoff looked down at the mangled prince on the floor and dragged a hand across his face, groaning. "Anna is going to kill me for this," he complained while stooping down to lift Hans. Elsa looked on in shock as he grabbed the prince and effortlessly threw him over his shoulder like a rag doll. He made it look _way_ too easy.

"Don't worry, you can tell her it was my fault," she assured him while standing to follow him down the hall towards the foyer.

"Isn't it?" he tested with a dry smile. She looked down with sudden guilt, which made the smile fall from his face. "That was a _joke_," he shook his head. "I really need to teach you both about that subject one day," he trailed off while catching sight of something directly ahead of them. Elsa followed his attention to a small little snowman who now waddled around the bottom of the castle staircase, clearly lost.

"Olaf?" Elsa called to the confused creature. He turned around and immediately lit up when he caught sight of Kristoff and Elsa.

"Oh _there_ you are!" he exclaimed while shuffling up to them both. "Anna locked me out of her room, so I thought I'd come find… you…" he slowly looked to Kristoff's shoulder while talking, his smile falling. After absorbing the scene, he shook his head and smiled again - albeit slightly nervous - and turned to Elsa.

"Why is Hans asleep?" he asked in genuine curiosity. Elsa paused and looked from Hans to Kristoff, unsure of how to explain it. Kristoff sighed and crouched, still carrying the prince on his shoulder, and drew the small snowman's attention.

"We have to take him to see Pabbie," he explained. "We should be back before sunset-" he glanced to Elsa, who had begun to place her thumbnail between gritted teeth, then turned back to Olaf. "Hopefully," he rephrased. His expression tensed as he begged Olaf with stern eyes and a hard set mouth. "You can't tell her unless you _absolutely _have to, okay?" he worded carefully. Olaf was never the best for keeping information to himself, but he hoped his phrasing was serious enough to make the small creature understand the importance of its secrecy. Olaf raised a stick finger in protest before Kristoff could stand back up.

"Uhm - what exactly would constitute _'absolutely have to tell Anna where Kristoff went'?_" he inquired. Kristoff exchanged a look with Elsa then placed a hand on Olaf's shoulder.

"If we're not back by tomorrow, tell Anna I went with Elsa to Pabbie's glade," he nodded. Olaf more or less understood his orders, and saluted them both before scuttling off. He stopped a few feet from the stairs and turned back to Elsa for a brief moment.

"Tell Hans I hope he feels better whenever he wakes up!" he waved and smiled before disappearing into the opposite hallway.

"All right, let's go," Kristoff heaved Hans more onto his shoulder and turned to stand, knocking Hans' head against the railing.

"_Kristoff!_" Elsa said in a shrill voice. He turned around in a circle, hitting him again. Elsa leapt forward to shield Hans from another blow. "Oh," Kristoff realized, then paused to assess his error. "Oops," he shrugged without a flicker of concern before trudging towards the door. Elsa pinched the bridge of her nose and breathed deep, then followed after her careless navigator.

"Just _be careful_," she pleaded once she'd caught up to his side. He waved her off again and used his free arm to push open the front door.

It wasn't until they'd crossed the fjord (with a little help from her magic to make the journey faster) that Kristoff spoke again. He was busy fitting Hans securely across Sven's saddle when he finally voiced what had prodded at the back of his mind for a few days now.

"Why do you care so much what happens to this creep, anyway?" he mouthed the phrase with clear distaste, wrinkling his nose and curling his lips around the insulting word. Elsa had to bite her tongue to keep from commenting again on his verbal treatment of Hans. Though he showed indifference, Kristoff wasn't angry the same way her sister had been. She still needed his help.

They walked a good twenty feet up the trail before Elsa decided on her answer, with her hands folded in familiar discomfort over her front.

"I wanted to give him the chance that I never had," she spoke, "to prove he's not a monster." The weight of her words filled the air and hung heavy in her throat long after she'd said them.

"How do you know he really hasn't just lied to you this whole time?" Kristoff didn't accuse her as Anna had, but simply wanted to know the truth. Elsa didn't feel as pressured to come up with a worthy answer, and instead spoke her true thoughts.

"When I was very small my father isolated me to my room for thirteen _years_ because he was too afraid to help me," she tried to hide the slight resentment in her tone, but it came out anyway. She shut her eyes and willed the mournful memories away to focus again on Hans. "Anna didn't see that cell, she didn't see the fear in his eyes. I know what it's like to feel helpless and alone for almost your entire life… he was _not_ pretending."

"Fair enough," Kristoff raised up his hands in surrender when he caught the anxiety edging Elsa's voice. He turned to the steep path cutting through the mountains, and spoke without turning his head. "So why didn't you tell Anna _that_ instead?" he inquired while squinting his eyes at the late afternoon sun. Elsa sighed.

"As much as I love my sister, there are just some things she will never understand," Elsa relented. She winced when she remembered the fury in Anna's eyes when they argued beside the river. "She wouldn't have believed me, anyway…" she added in a dull murmur. They were entering the thick of the mountains now, evening out on a plateau that led into the forest. Kristoff was busy pushing branches out of the way when he spoke next.

"I don't think you give your sister enough credit," he held his ground. Grunting, Kristoff pushed a particularly thick limb over his head to allow Elsa to pass underneath, then released it with a _snap_ behind him. "She's a lot smarter than you think," he reassured her.

"Well, I'm having a hard enough time considering she doesn't even believe Hans is cursed to begin with," Elsa relented in frustration, then paused to follow Kristoff across a shallow stream. "It doesn't help that no one else in the kingdom believes me, either," she hesitantly took Kristoff's extended hand and stepped down onto the other side of the bank.

"I do," he perked. Elsa stopped in her tracks and stared at Kristoff until he realized she wasn't following and turned around. He blinked at her.

"You… do?" she asked in a small voice, completely baffled.

"Well yeah," he shrugged. Elsa caught up and continued walking, though kept her peculiar gaze locked on the side of his face.

"Why would you treat him so cruelly, then?" she begged the question from frustrated eyes. He glanced at Elsa, then to Hans' form slung over Sven's back as if to check if he were still unconscious.

"Because he hurt Anna," he said quite simply. Then, shrugging again, added, "Curse or no, he was still a jerk to break her heart like that."

It was in that moment Elsa realized her error. She had been so persistent to prove his curse to Anna, she hadn't seen the wound beneath ran much deeper. Anna had fallen in love with Hans, and trusted him enough to leave the entire kingdom in his responsibility. Elsa flooded with guilt once her mistake unwound itself from her conscious.

"I… suppose I owe her an apology," Elsa stuttered out, still lost in her muddied thoughts. "I-I'll speak to her when we return," she decided.

"If mister fancy pants here wakes up at all, that is," Kristoff commented while nodding to the limp body to his right. Elsa pressed her lips together in earnest and furrowed her brow.

"He will," she said firmly.

Kristoff glanced at her. She was completely resilient in her faith that Hans would be okay, despite everything. Despite Anna, despite the kingdom, and despite what he'd seen himself. She refused to give up on the jerk.

"_Why_ do you care so much, anyway?" he asked while screwing up his face.

"I already explained myself," Elsa wearied while looking away. He waved off her rebuttal with a flip of his hand.

"Yeah, well I get how he's a _'kindred spirit to your repressed childhood ' _and all," he inflected the term with slight sarcasm, then corrected his mocking expression after a look from Elsa. He cleared his throat, and softened his tone when he turned to her again. "_Why_ go to all this trouble for a _traitor_, is what I mean?" he tried. When Elsa couldn't hold his gaze, the strangely obvious reason began to take slow shape in his head. He pulled back in wonder, his brow slightly furrowed. "…You really do care about him, don't you?"

She didn't say anything for a long moment, her guilt betraying her thoughts as she wound her arms around her body in a tight cushion against the outside world and looked down at her feet.

"He was the first person besides my sister that didn't fear me because of my powers," she croaked out. "He also protected me when no one else wanted to…" she trailed off, now lost in the guilt of her memories.

"-_until_ he tried to murder you on the fjord," Kristoff added in a dead tone. Elsa pressed her brow together and looked at Kristoff, immediately dispersing his irritation.

"When he told me my powers had killed my sister, I… honestly believed I deserved to die in that moment," her voice was entirely shaken, though still held to an anchor of persistence that carried from her lips with each syllable. "I _wanted _to die," she finished.

"And you think that's why Hans tried to attack you?" Hans sounded genuinely confused again, though she didn't have an answer to his question.

"I don't know, Kristoff," she said while climbing over another rise through the trees. "All I can do is trust my instincts and hope for the best."

"Well let's hope your instincts are right," he pointed to a clearing in the forest, "because we're about to find out." In the distance she could see smooth, round rocks in the center of the glade begin to shake and unfurl into the shapes of small stone creatures.

"Come on, Sven," Kristoff clucked to his reindeer and moved to the gathering crowd of stone trolls, Elsa standing behind with nervous hands gripping her dress.

_ Deep breath._


	9. Find Me in the Dark

**Author's Note: **Though Hans' is still unconscious this entire chapter, I hope you all enjoy the small little Helsa moments I slipped in here and there. Also hats off to Kristoff for making Elsa smile - she really needed it. Don't worry, Hans will be back in action soon enough! :)

* * *

The strange stone-creatures gathered around in wonder as the three humans stepped into the clearing. Elsa remembered the trolls being much bigger as a child. While she greeted them with the approach of a tentative deer, Kristoff was nearly topped to the ground by some of his overeager, adoptive troll cousins.

"Where's Pabbie?" he asked one once they'd settled down. Before he managed to get the question completely out, the crowd parted like water and his grandfather emerged from behind a mossy hill. His eyes immediately fell to Elsa, surveying her with a sage look before turning his attention to Kristoff. Once his eyes finally found the source of the issue - namely Hans' body strapped to Sven's back like freshly caught wild game - he gestured for Kristoff to pull him down from the saddle. He obliged, thankfully not hitting Hans' head on any nearby rocks or other objects, and with Elsa's help rested his body on the ground in front of Pabbie.

"Frozen heart?" he asked after glancing at Elsa again, then back to Hans' motionless form. She gritted her teeth and looked down, slightly resentful though ashamed all the more that he would so quickly assume it was a result of her powers. Kristoff was quick to step in to speak in her stead.

"It's some kind of curse, Pabbie. This wasn't Elsa's fault," he defended her quite surprisingly. Elsa glanced up and blinked at him, then offered a thankful smile before turning back to the elder troll. He was running hands around the space that occupied Hans, just close enough to feel his energy but never touching him. He struggled for a moment, concentrating hard, then squinted his eyes as he found whatever information he sought, and pulled his hands away.

"Well?" Kristoff asked once he'd stopped. Pabbie seemed reluctant to speak at first, choosing to first turn his hand over and stretch his large stone fingers as if testing their strength, then made a low grumble in his throat.

"It is indeed a curse," he remarked while looking to them both. Despite finally having a clear answer on whether or not Hans had lied to her, her relief fell mute under the weight of this new and terrible threat - that of a curse that could possibly destroy him. This new fact only meant it would be that much harder to help him, if at all.

Elsa wrinkled her forehead and stared down at Hans, willing him to wake up so that she could face herself and the kingdom again. His expression, though by all unconscious appearances, had the slightest revelation of anxiety tensed between his brow and under his mouth. He looked disturbed even in his motionless state, and it only worried Elsa more as she ran a hand over his head and tried to soothe Hans. Perhaps he needed to know someone was looking after him.

Pabbie raised a hand over Hans a second time, and for a brief moment she saw a white light glow from the center of his palm before disappearing with a sharp crackle. Pabbie winced and pulled his hand away, clearly unsettled by something.

"A living mirror curse, and a powerful one at that-" he said in a frightful, awed voice. "This is dark and old magic, I'm afraid… and far beyond my capabilities," he continued in a grave tone that made Elsa's heart pace in fear. Her throat tightened when he finished his solemn revelation, giving way to a frantic desperation that began to cloud her common sense and judgment.

"Is there anyone who can help him?" she struggled to speak, to keep her voice calm and demeanor hidden. She couldn't help herself though with the way Pabbie looked at Hans it was as if he'd condemned him already. Panic began to twist into her features. She looked around to the faces of the other trolls, now watching her in tempered fear as they witnessed a snow flurry begin to fall over her head. She turned back to Pabbie. "_Please_," her voice cracked in the slightest from her distress, "there _has_ to be _someone_ who can help him."

Pabbie thought long and hard on his answer before finally grumbling his answer. "There is maybe one person who _may_ be able to assist you," he spoke very carefully. Elsa hung on every word as if on the edge of a knife, going so far as to sit forward to hear his explanation.

"Where can I find him?" she asked before he'd finished his last word. He bared her an irritable look, then glanced at Kristoff with a frown before giving Elsa her answer.

"_She_ resides in a village far north of here, through the mountain pass on the highest plateau of Meridian Woods. If you travel through the pass, you will see it as long as daylight remains." Elsa nodded throughout his entire speech, mentally burning the directions into her brain. She was already considering the fastest route to get him there and how when Kristoff audibly cleared his throat beside her.

"Please take him, I don't want him drooling all over my new pants," he picked up Hans by one shoulder - previously having draped the unconscious prince partly over his lap - and set him down on Elsa's instead. She took him without protest, though hesitated to touch him once he'd been moved. After a contemplative pause, she slowly placed her hands on either side of his skull, hiding them in the thick of his hair. She was too afraid to touch the fractured glass that still clung to his temples. Elsa frowned down at Hans, her heart falling.

"Is there nothing else you can do…?" her voice weakened again with unsettled fears that continued to crawl to the surface as she ran a hand over his forehead.

_ Please wake up, Hans…_

Pabbie connected his own attention to where her mournful eyes rested, and made low, grumbling noises in his throat as he considered his options. After a moment, he sighed deep and furrowed his stone-brow.

"I cannot make any promises," he warned, "but I _may_ be able to wake him." He caught Elsa's blossoming relief before it could fully unfurl itself, and turned his stern mouth into a frown, a single index of warning raised. "_Maybe_," he reiterated with a slow nod. Her expression fell before it could fully rise, and resumed its place in solemn discomfort as she nodded and agreed without another word.

The others made quick work of moving Hans, easily lifting him off the ground in their arms and trudging as a unit over to a nearby hut carved into the side of a hill. Elsa automatically rose to her feet and followed them like a sleepwalker lost in a dream, her eyes still unchanged from Hans.

Kristoff watched the procession with mild interest, crouching to stand once everyone else had left, then turned to Sven for an evening snack. Anna would find out either way, so he might as well get settled in while he waited. After rustling through his pack strapped over Sven's saddle, he pulled out two carrots and offered one to his reindeer, then turned around to lean against his companion and chewed on his own. It wasn't until he felt something brush his leg that he jumped and realized Pabbie was still standing beside him, his eyes following after the path Elsa and the others had taken to the hut.

"The queen has a strong heart," he said after a long, thoughtful pause. Kristoff would have concurred with his grandpa's statement, though his mouth was full of carrots. Instead, Pabbie concluded his observation with a rather grave omen spoken from dead lips. "Though… I fear her prince may not hold the same," he spoke in a far-off murmur, then left without saying goodbye to Kristoff.

"Well what is that supposed to mean?" Kristoff mused to himself in a resentful mutter before taking Sven's reins and turning him around in the opposite direction. He was certain he'd seen a stream somewhere around here…

Later that night Elsa waved goodbye to the last of the helpful family members that had stayed to assist both herself and Pabbie. He left her with the advice to watch over Hans, then removed both himself and the others. She sat alone in the room with Hans on a small stool. A warm fire crackled in the hand-carved stone and wood fireplace in the corner of the room, warming Hans' cold body. She herself felt uncomfortable in the heat, but would bear it for the sake of keeping an eye on the sleeping prince.

His outer layers had been stripped away, as had his boots to try and keep him comfortable. He wore a white, loose tunic and leather pants with a sash bearing the emblem and colors of the Isles kingdom. He looked vulnerable… and also afraid, despite being unconscious. The barely perceptible worry still creased the edges of his eyes and forehead, and turned down his mouth. She wondered if he was dreaming, or if perhaps he was trapped in the realm of a cursed nightmare. Or maybe he was just lost in the dark.

Firelight flickered across the sloped, rich cherry wood walls carved with memories of the trolls, playing shadows across her vision. She reached out and squeezed Hans' hand at his bedside, hoping that perhaps he could at least know she was beside him even in the dark. She stayed in that exact position for some time, not saying a word, and only occasionally moved to check his pulse or run fingertips habitually over his forehead. It wasn't until she felt the gentle arms of drowsiness begin to encase her limbs and heavy her eyes that the door was shoved open and in lumbered Kristoff. He had to duck his head to enter, and sunk to the floor in one motion.

"So how is our resident damsel?" he mused with a slight grin while adjusting himself on the floor beside Elsa, his arms crossed to hold his knees. He looked entirely out of place yet strangely comfortable in the tiny hut, and it occurred to her that perhaps he'd slept in this place as a child. This could have very easily been his bedroom. Anna had mentioned how he grew up with the trolls. They were as much family to him as Anna was to her.

"Still sleeping," she answered after a pause, turning her eyes back to Hans' form in another burst of small hope he might awake. He did not. Her smile fell before it could fully take form as she reached out again and ran her hand over his head, this time letting her fingertips rest in the roots of his hair. It soothed Elsa, at the very least, while the better half of her wanted to believe it helped Hans somehow find his way out of this encumbered vice. She wanted so badly to see his eyes open, and to turn and look at her again. It was slowly withering her heart to watch him this way; motionless, helpless. Alone.

_ He must be so frightened…_

Kristoff cleared his throat to remind Elsa he still sat in the room, and shifted again in his seat though he was comfortable. "Do you think he can hear us?" he piped up after she'd collected herself and sat back from Hans, regrettably removing her hands from him. She sighed and slouched back a bit in the chair, surveying Hans.

"Well I hope so," she replied, "since otherwise it would mean I've been talking to myself for the past hour." Kristoff cracked a genuine smile and chuckled to himself before rocking back on his heels.

"I'm sure fancy pants appreciates the company," he relented with a bemused shake of his head. Elsa eyed him with a curt grin, then turned away again. Kristoff's nickname for Hans was starting to grow on her, she hated to admit.

"He has a name, you know," she said, though her defense was hardly attempted at all on Hans' behalf. Kristoff just shrugged.

"I know, I just like fancy pants better," he explained. "I think it suits him." Elsa didn't say anything, just smiled a bit wider and crossed her hands over her lap.

They sat in the quiet for a little while, both shifting between unspoken thoughts and personal feelings over the matter while the fire crackled in the background. The weight of silence began to slowly press down on them until Kristoff finally spoke up again, his thoughts overflowing to the rumble in his throat.

"Y'know… Anna really does love you," he worked the phrase out with consideration, his brow pressing together as he looked up at her. His smile was gone, replaced instead by an imperceptible fondness only recalled by the eyes of memory. He shook his head and looked down again, his expression masked. "She worries about you _all _the time," he sighed. Then, burying his personal thoughts, he looked up at Elsa with a reassuring smile and light-hearted optimism in his eyes. "She'll come around, just give her some time," he said with profound genuity.

"Really?" Elsa put a hand to her chest and tried to withhold the swell of emotions building up. She hadn't spoken to her sister much in the past month, much less let her know how much she meant to her. To hear that her sister did not entirely hate her was both a relief and another worry to cloud her mind with guilt when she realized it meant Anna had probably spent countless hours fighting herself about it, and eventually wound up talking to Kristoff. Her face fell as she dropped her hands back down and stared at them in her lap. "I'm sorry for dragging you into this, Kristoff," she began. "I know it's an impossible position to put you in, but I appreciate your help. You didn't have to do this." Kristoff just grunted a laugh and tilted his mouth.

"Well actually I _kind of _had to," he squinted his eyes with his inflection, then smiled. "But it's okay," he relented, "I would have done it regardless."

Elsa turned wide eyes to him, and felt her voice weaken as she spoke. "Thank you," she wavered on her sincerity, nearly threatened by her guilty appreciation for everything he'd done to help her. He waved her off and climbed to his feet, clearly not fond of heart-to-heart talks. After brushing off his pants, he nodded to Elsa and stepped back outside, leaving her alone again with Hans. She stared at the door long after his footsteps faded from earshot. After a long time, she sighed and turned back to Hans, placing one hand over his.

"I wish you could tell me who did this to you, Hans…" she whispered while resting her forehead against the top of her hand She wished for many things she knew may never happen. All she could do was hold her breath and hope for the best.

_ Please wake up…_


	10. Alone

**Author's Note: **I'll leave it up to your discretion to decide whether or not Hans was aware of her presence while in his "cursed sleep", so to speak. :) Makes things more interesting that way.

* * *

At some point in the night Elsa's tired body overcame her fretful mind and she fell asleep. As she began to climb back out of her slumber the next morning, she felt something warm rise and fall beneath her. A hand shifted through her hair, cradling her head. Elsa's eyes jumped open.

She was staring directly at Hans' jaw, still slightly turned to the right as he dreamed in the dark. He looked entirely at peace - comfortable even. It was a far cry from her memory of the previous night, where his face had barely contained a ghost cry of fear just beneath the surface of his skin. Elsa's entire body seized up in horror when she realized, however, that she was laying on him.

She immediately raised her head and, careful to rest his hand back on the space where she'd been, sat up and stared down at her hands. A blush burned the back of her neck like fire where his fingertips had rested. She was so busy staring at her hands she didn't notice Hans' eyes open. It wasn't until he made a small, sleepy noise in his throat that Elsa looked up.

"H-Hans!" she gasped, immediately turning her attention to the fact he was awake. He appeared drowsy, though not frightened as he labored to sit up (Elsa tentatively holding out her hands in case he needed help) and rubbed the back of his skull. She leaned in and tilted her head.

"How are you? How are you feeling?" she nearly tripped over her own words in her attempts to get them out fast enough. He looked at her with one open eye and rubbed his neck.

"My head hurts," he winced when he found a particularly sore spot. Elsa's face twisted into an unrecognizable shape as she tightened her lips and sighed.

"You can thank our guide Kristoff for that," she commented off-handedly, though her voice was not filled with ire. Her attention shifted to his temples that still gleamed with ink-black scales. She frowned. "The markings are still there…" she murmured to herself, then waved her hand when Hans raised a brow at her in questioning. "I'm glad you're awake," she said, then forced a smile across her lips.

"Is Anna okay?" he asked once he'd collected his thoughts. As far as he knew, they were still back at the castle. She wondered if he remembered her encasing him in the ice. Her face crumpled a bit when she considered her answer.

"She wasn't hurt," Elsa explained, "though I don't know if she'll want to speak to you any time soon."

"As long as she's safe," Hans interjected in an unreadable tone. Elsa looked up to find his demeanor fashioned into sure-footed reason as he scoured the ice-laden window.

"And how are you feeling, Majesty?" he inquired before she was fully prepared to answer. Elsa straightened and blinked when his eyes turned back to her.

"Me?" she asked in surprise. He nodded, and in return she found herself stuttering briefly. "I-I'm fine, really. Honestly, I was more concerned for your recovery-"

"I'm fine, Majesty," he reassured her in that same, affable tone that continued to confuse her, though didn't raise any immediate alarms. His curse, after all, worked in many different ways to employ an image of perception to the other party. She had simply grown too accustomed to his mimicking attitude around her to remember.

"Just call me Elsa, please," she half-smiled and touched his hand without thought. "It's much less impersonal."

Hans' attention slowly drew down to her gesture - a form of contact she had unconsciously grown comfortable with since yesterday - then looked up at her in unearthed surprise. She immediately withdrew her hand and covered it over her lap, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" she immediately searched his skin for signs of frost damage. He just smiled and shook his head.

"No, Majesty," he breathed out in a chuckle, still admiring his hand in fleeting wonder.

"Elsa," she chided, then softened her tone when he looked up. "_Please_," she added. His mouth turned up at one corner, warming his features.

"Okay," he relented.

The door swung open before Elsa could say anything else, though a part of her flooded with relief to have a distraction. Kristoff stooped and made his way inside - careful to duck his head - and twisted an awkward smirk onto his face.

"Did I miss anything?" he eyed Elsa, then Hans as the groggy prince swung his legs over the bed to search for his coat and boots. Elsa immediately moved to help him, busying herself with the retrieval of his clothes while Hans took in Kristoff's appearance.

"You're Kristoff, I assume?" he asked. Kristoff nodded.

"I hear my headache is owed to your generosity," Hans bore an even sharper smirk across his features, raising his brow as he regarded his opposition. He somehow managed to outdo Kristoff in terms of smug sarcasm, enough so to cause the smile to fall entirely from Kristoff's face for a brief moment. After a pause to absorb his newfound competition, Kristoff blinked and tersed his mouth before looking to Elsa with half-cocked irritability.

"Did I mention how _happy_ I am that fancy pants is awake now?" he mused, then shouldered some rope from the wall and turned immediately back out the door. Once outside, he paused with his hand on the door handle, then poked his head back in briefly to the two. They turned to look at him. "We need to leave in a few minutes, okay?" he looked in earnest to Elsa, who nodded in understanding before he shut the door. Her sister would be worried by now.

"…._Fancy pants?"_ Hans formed the nickname on his lips, pulling them back in a confused sneer. Elsa perked and turned back around. He was staring at her in clear befuddlement, to which she barely suppressed a chuckle and simply shrugged.

The journey back to Arendelle was much faster. Kristoff moved with the urgency to return to Anna as soon as possible, which Elsa could understand. Anna would have undoubtedly found out where they'd gone, and maybe even sought to go after them. Whatever the case, Kristoff was insistent to return them to their home within the hour.

Once at the castle, Kristoff allowed Theo to take Sven to the stables (something he usually did himself) and rushed off to find Anna, leaving them alone again. Elsa glanced back to Hans for a moment, then turned to her front and began to walk towards the kitchens. Hans fell in step behind her.

"You aren't obligated to stay by my side within the castle walls anymore, Hans," she spoke in an authoritive tone, though betrayed by her slight sadness that he should finally heed her insistence and walk off. She was encumbered again by her fear of talking to her sister, and more than ever of his curse. He didn't need to be around her right now with her somber mood to dampen his spirits. She couldn't handle it right now.

"I know," he retorted. "I like to."

She paused and looked back at him, her hands pressed tightly together over her front. His expression was rigid with sincerity, his brow pushed together. His smile lopsided. She could almost pretend he was speaking for himself, and not out of her selfish and overwhelming desire to see him that way. However, he wasn't sad, he didn't grieve and worry as she did, and that was what mattered. She supposed it wouldn't hurt to at least pretend for a little while. Elsa smiled.

"Would you like a late breakfast?" she inquired. He lit up in an instant and resumed himself beside her, offering his arm in a mechanical gesture of courtesy. In the past she had always refused it out of a sense of decency and for the sake of her sister. This time, however, she found herself hesitating before slowly winding her hand around the smooth inside of his coat arm. His posture was warm and inviting, and she hated to realize it was still as comforting as she remembered.

After breakfast, Elsa spent the better half of her morning in the study mulling over paperwork that had piled up over the past week. It was a terribly tedious process, though made much more tolerable by Hans' presence. At first he left her to her devices while he browsed her personal library, sitting down on occasion to flip through a novel or two. Eventually he began to simply pace around the room, and continuously stared outside.

By noon the stuffy office became too much, and Elsa abruptly stood up before making the suggestion to take a walk. Hans was more than happy to oblige, and together they strolled through the castle gardens.

After the gardens, Elsa found the looming doorway of the castle too foreboding to approach. Guilt weighed down her bones from the very first step, and with a frown of concern she'd stepped away and allowed Hans to lead her away from her stonewalled prison with the suggestion of an afternoon ride through the woods. She agreed without hesitation.

By late afternoon they were sprawled out on a hill overlooking a valley behind Arendelle. They'd rode for hours through game trails Elsa remembered as a child, and eventually wound up on the edge of an abyss overlooking the horizon of mountains and forest. He listened with rapt attention as she told him the stories her father use to tell her overlooking the same valley.

Before she realized it, the day had been spent and evening crept upon Elsa as they made their way back through the forest to the castle. Though she had desperately needed a break, her heart still felt guilty as they re-emerged from the edge of the woods and saw the castle in the distance. It was strange she should feel so restrained within those same walls, yet outside - it was different. She felt free and fearless. She didn't have to worry so much. Hans wordlessly trotted up beside her on his horse, Sitron, and exchanged a look of concern before she turned away and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with one hand.

"Come on," she murmured while willing the unsettling feelings away and clucking her horse into motion. They circled around the backside of the castle near the kitchens in hopes of returning to the stables unnoticed by the staff. She was halfway across the yard when Hans came to a halt by the door, his attention drawn to the forest. Elsa glanced back, then circled around once she realized he had stopped following.

"What is it?" she asked. He slid down from his horse and stared into the trees for a long moment, unreadable. When he finally turned his head, an earnest expression wrung on his features and he held out one hand.

"Will you do something for me?" he inquired, now letting a slow smile slip onto his lips. Elsa creased her brow.

"I suppose…" she said unsurely before allowing him to help her down from her horse. "What is it?" she repeated the same question once he'd set her down beside him. He was looking to the forest again, and it finally occurred to her where they were at. Though invisible to the naked eye, her secret garden trail carved through the woods directly ahead of them. "Would you like to tie our horses here?" she asked once she began to catch on to his intentions. He turned and reflected her expression, then took both reins in his hands.

"They should be fine here for a little while," he tied the horses to adjacent trees on the edge of the woods, though far enough apart that they wouldn't get tangled. He bore a lopsided grin when he noticed Sitron nose the side of Elsa's mare, Winter. "I think he's taken a shining to her," he chuckled. Elsa laughed as well when she saw the two horses begin teasing one another.

"It seems so," she covered her mouth to hide her smile, then turned to find Hans holding out a welcome hand. She paused only for a moment before sliding her hand into his and holding tight. Once they'd stepped into the trees, she could hardly see his figure beside her, let alone the trail. Hans, however, navigated the darkness with practiced ease. Perhaps a result of being left to it for so long, she thought to herself.

Once they broke through the clearing, Elsa paused in surprise to the sight before them. The moon itself had climbed down from the sky to light up her frozen garden. The ice archways glowed with a spectrum of red and gold and refracted onto the frozen ground, creating a rainbow of colors beneath their feet. The light bounced around, creating a fractal of light through her prismatic garden.

"Wow," they both said in unison. She smiled and laughed with him, then watched as he approached one of the prettiest roses. She circled her finger in the air and bloomed color into the flower, shifting in tandem with the light. He knelt to admire it, tilting his head to watch the changing colors, then stood back up and smiled. She closed her eyes and let snow begin to gently fall. Her eyes slowly opened again.

"You don't mind, do you?" she tempted, hoping it wouldn't be too cold for him. She couldn't help but feel her heart swell in desire to capture that feeling of wonder in his eyes the same way her sister once did when they were children. If only for a moment, she wanted to feel her powers were something to be appreciated, not feared. With Hans, he had never shown signs of discomfort within the wake of her magic, and especially so when witnessing her powers at their best. He looked at her for a long moment after she'd asked, then smiled and upturned his palms to the sky, reveling in the flurry as it fell on his shoulders.

"No, I love it," he breathed out a puff of white. Elsa scrunched up her face and perched a curious smile on her lips.

"Why do you like my powers so much?" she finally asked, her surprise leaking into the inflection of her voice. He continued to stare at the sky in wonder, though had since dropped his hands to his side.

"I've always loved winter," he spoke. "I use to wish I could spend more time in it." Elsa's face fell.

"That's right, you never really went outside, did you?" she frowned. He continued unabashed.

"I remember winter as a boy, of course, but the lower castle never provided much of a view…" he began strolling around the gardens, still stopping to admire the prettier flowers she had crafted. "Most of the time I only saw winter from a caged window or door," he breathed in and shut his eyes. "I love the _feeling_ of it, though." His eyes opened again as he admired his surroundings, turning to her. "Your powers are _beautiful_, Elsa."

The combination of hearing him say her name for the first time as well as his compliment left her speechless. She opened her mouth to thank him, then shut it when her embarrassment got the better of her. Then, sighing, she tucked a stray hair behind her ear and shrugged her shoulders in slight dismay. "Funny, no one's ever called my powers beautiful before," she said in a timid voice. She began to shy away, adamant to keep him from seeing the blush that now crept up her neck. He stepped forward.

"As beautiful as the one who possesses such a gift," he added in a low murmur. She looked up in surprise to find him approaching with one hand out again.

"Majesty," he addressed her. She frowned at him. "_Elsa_," he corrected with a slight laugh, causing her frown to stretch into another look of embarrassment. His smile curved. "I never had the pleasure of a dance at your coronation," he half-bowed and looked up at her. "Would you care to indulge me now?" he said then tilted his head in the slightest. Elsa was bound by her guilt and thundering heart to relent to his request, and too a slow step forward in caution. He smiled reassuringly to her before placing one hand to her waist, then slid his bare hand into hers and grasped it, burning heat into the palm of her hand. Her face flushed.

Though there were no musicians and the gardens were hardly suited for a dance floor, Hans determinedly glided through the trail ways and led Elsa in step with him. When she as younger, her father had taught her how to dance. She would place her tiny feet atop his boots and shuffled the waltz in his study on warm summer afternoons, until one day he stopped dancing all together. Once her powers begun to manifest, she saw less and less of both her parents. With every day she grew stronger, she remembered the smile on her father's face faded a bit more, and eventually disappeared all together.

Elsa felt the ache begin to creep into her heart. The snow had started to fall thick and heavy around them, and with a shaken sigh she turned her head and closed herself off within the space of his guiding hands. He slid his grasp further around her waist as if queued by her troubled thoughts. Though she was hungry for a salve to her isolation, Elsa could not find the words to ask. Instead, he seemed to understand her mute desire and pulled her closer still until her nose rested against his chest. Slowly, achingly - she reached up both timid hands and wound them around his neck before pulling herself the rest of the way and holding him tight. Her face buried into his chest, drinking in the warmth and comfort, and arms wrapped so tightly around his neck she nearly lifted herself from the ground. He rested his chin atop her head and relented to her arms, content to hold her.

"I never thanked you properly for helping me," he said after a long moment. Elsa's eyes opened to stare at the space between his neck and collarbone.

"You don't have to, Hans…" she murmured with a frown, fingers lacing together behind his back. "I did it because I wanted to," she decided.

"Well," he adjusted his chin to rest on another spot, "I'm doing this because _I_ want to." Past the fabric of his coat and tunic, she could feel the reverberations of his voice thrum in his chest, as well as the steady beat of his heart. Tensing her expression, she pulled back and looked at Hans.

"No, you're not," she shook her head. She could feel herself receding now; the mask was slipping, and she once again had to remind herself of the impossibility of this fabricated world she'd built around herself. His pleasant smile began to disappear with the unearthed certainty of her own expression, lax with sobriety as she looked upon the empty vessel in her arms. As he released his hold and separated them both, she could already feel the grief swelling in her throat long before the ill words unfurled.

"What do you mean?" he asked in a slightly offended tone. She pressed her mouth together and shook her head.

"Obligation is not the same thing as desire, Hans," she felt the vitriol burning on her tongue like poison, but forced herself to continue nonetheless. "This isn't real," she said. Though she tried to speak clearly, her voice rapidly died with each terrible syllable. Tears were in her eyes as she finished, and her fear built into a broken spirit that reflected perfectly on the crumpled lines of Hans' face.

"You're nothing but a mirror," she trembled. Unable to stand watching as he fell apart with her, Elsa turned and fled back down the trail to the castle.

Out of the line of trees, Elsa's wiped the back of her hand against her cheek to rid herself of her tears, though they continued to flow. Her attention was caught briefly by voices high above, and looked up to a private balcony to find silhouettes moving in and out of sight behind the curtain of her sister's bedroom. By the sound of their voices, she could immediately pick out Anna and Kristoff. They were too high up to discern any audible words, but Elsa could hear the inflection of their tone to know enough. Sighing, she closed her arms around her body and retreated to the dark, empty halls of the castle where she would be safe from the world.

Safe and alone.


	11. The Frozen Path

**Author's Note: **If you can't tell yet, this is where the interesting parts actually begin. Also a little Kristanna moment for some of you guys slipped in there. :) I was so excited to write this part because everything after it is _so_ incredibly epic and awesome. Also - who do _you_ think is the cloaked woman? Stick around and find out next chapter!

* * *

Anna's fingers grazed across the surface of her desk - a smooth, warm surface the color of summertime. She watched shapes form across the blank vellum in front of her from the candlelight, and sighed. Stains still marred the desk from a week ago when she'd written it - that stupid, cursed letter. By now they were surely on their way to return their wretched prince to the Isles, so even if she'd wanted to stop it she couldn't anymore. That time had come and gone. Despite verbally reassuring herself it was the right decision, something awful continued to twist in her stomach ever since she watched her messenger slip onto the boat heading past the Isles. She'd never told her sister. She'd never even told Kristoff.

Anna couldn't stop thinking about her sister, or the fight they'd had yesterday. Visions of it flashed behind the dark of her lids, coupled by the horrific image of Hans' face bristled with gleaming black scales. Whether or not he was cursed, Hans was still too dangerous to leave around her sister, and as much as she hated to admit it - her sister was beginning to forget just how dangerous he _could_ be.

_ This was for the best…_

She told herself that for the hundredth time, yet it sounded as dull and meaningless as before. Yes, it was for the best - but why couldn't she escape the feeling of awfulness? Of guilt? She knew why, she thought while crossing he arms over her desk and propping her chin up.

_ Because it would break her heart…_

For whatever strange reason, her sister had shown Hans mercy, and in turn adopted him in a way. She treated him like a pet more than a danger, and that bothered Anna the most. She had wanted so badly to tell her yesterday about the letter, to warn her that she should prepare herself, but when the time came and she saw how vindictive Hans looked at her - she'd lost control. And now her sister would never listen. Now, it was too late…

Anna sighed and tilted back in her chair to look out of her balcony. The doors had been pushed open to allow in a cool breeze - something she'd dearly missed since summer returned - and billowed the sheer white curtains inward. She hunched a bit and sat back down in her chair when the air turned frigid for a moment, then stopped. She shivered.

"Anna?" an unsure male voice called from her doorway. She turned to see Kristoff just as he poked in his mop of yellow hair in, waiting to be invited. She frowned and tightened her arms more, immediately turning her head and lifting her chin to show him she was still upset.

"I'm still angry at you for disappearing on me yesterday, Kristoff," she huffed and tried to sit up straight in her chair, but the gesture felt empty. She was done being angry. _Tired_ of being angry. After a pause, she sheepishly unwound her tight posture and sunk in her chair, her arms hanging loose at her sides. "I-I'm sorry," she croaked. "You can come in," she sighed and waved with weak fingers, then turned further away. She could hear the edge of her bed creak as he plopped down on it, squeaking a few more times as he tried to get comfortable. He finally shifted and fell still.

"I'm sorry," he said. Anna glanced back, staring at the earnest plea in his eyes, the turned frown of his mouth, and looked away again.

"You already apologized to me today, Kristoff," she argued. "The first hundred times were probably enough." He sat forward in his persistence, begging her attention from a pleading face. She couldn't refuse. After a heavy sigh, she slowly turned herself around and clasped her hands between her knees.

"I know, I just wanted to say it again," he shrugged. "Plus just… the whole _thing_-" he scrunched up his nose and tried to conjure the image in the air, then sighed and dropped his hands back down. "The whole Hans' curse… your sister…" he trailed off. Anna groaned and dropped her face into both hands.

"_Why_ do you have to bring that up again?" she muttered into her fingers. It was bad enough she'd stopped sleeping at night worrying herself over it - she didn't need her waking hours tormented as well.

"Well, I think we need to talk about it," Kristoff persisted in a half-hearted tone. He hunched his shoulders and pressed his brow together when she shot him a threatening look from between fingers. "You _said_ you would later - it's later, isn't it?" he added in an even smaller voice. She scoffed.

"You want to do this _now_?" she asked, incredulous. Her fingers tore from her face and spread apart in her aggression. He just blinked at her and nodded, slow and certain.

"Well, yeah," he continued. "Since Elsa plans on leaving with Hans in the morning, I think it's probably important we talk about it now-" Anna's eyes suddenly narrowed in perception to his statement as she filtered each and every syllable, then suddenly lit up in newfound frustration.

"Wait, you _never _said my _sister_ was going!" she rose to her feet and pointed an accusing finger at Kristoff, who held up his hands in defense and wrinkled his nose.

"How was I supposed to when you were yelling at _me_ just for _leaving _yesterday? I couldn't exactly just spring that on you in the middle of it!" he bit back, though his tone hardly contended with Anna's rising vindication as she clamped her hands shut into fists and bared a snarl at him.

"Oh, and _this_ isn't considered '_springing it on me'_?" she shouted, now circling around to his other side and gesturing with one hand. "Kristoff, did you even _think_ to tell me about it in the first place? Did you think _at all _when you left to drag that _traitor_ to your family's _home_? How do you know he won't _hurt them_?"

"Because it's a _curse_ Anna! I really doubt he _cares_ about the glade in the first place!" he stood now, exasperated to remind her again of the subject she constantly danced around yet never seemed willing to face.

"Oh, so that makes it all better?" she turned on him again, and he sighed and covered his face.

"Not again…" he groaned.

"No, please _enlighten me _how him being _cursed_ excuses _everything _that he's done to me! To my _sister!_" she yelled.

"For one, he never actually _hurt_ your sister!" his voice bellowed for the briefest of seconds, then fell when he saw the hurt in Anna's eyes. His tightened features softened, then his mouth turned down as he sighed and dropped his hands and looked at frigid little Anna, cornered again by fear and loathing. He swallowed the lump in his throat. "_Nothing_ will ever excuse what he's done, Anna…" he murmured. She stepped away with tears in her eyes. Kristoff just shook his head. "I don't blame you for being angry, _please _just-" he held out his hand in earnest, and finally she uncurled her arms from her chest. He smiled, soft and sad. "I'm on your side, remember?"

She finally relented and sunk into his chest, still tightly curled into herself. With her face pressed against his shoulder, she murmured into the space of his arm. "It doesn't feel that way…" she said while sniffing back tears. He hugged his great bear arms around her small body and sighed again, just wanting to wish the tears away. He hated to see her so upset.

"I won't ever abandon you, I _promise_," he reassured her. "I'm only saying these things because I hate seeing you and your sister fight like this." He ran a hand through her tangled red hair and let it rest at the nape of her neck, brushing it lightly. His words somehow triggered something in Anna as she stuttered over her breath and began to cry again.

"I don't know what to do Kristoff," she said in between her tears. "I love my sister, I just want her back. I feel like all he's done is take her from me. I hate him, I hate him _so much _it hurts."

"I know it hurts, Anna… but your sister is doing what she thinks is right," he leaned her back to look in her eyes. They glimmered with tears, and her cheeks stained from those that had already fallen. He took both thumbs and brushed them across her cheeks. "All we can do is support her decision and hope for the best," he found himself partly quoting what Elsa had said to him yesterday, hoping somehow that Anna might find solace in her words.

"It's not _just_ that, though…" she had her face buried into his chest again, and caused him to look down in surprise. He waited. She sniffed again briefly before explaining herself, face still smashed into the warm leather of his vest. "He doesn't _deserve _her help - I don't think he deserves my sister _at all _to begin with," she gripped him hard as her anger briefly took hold of her heart again, then relented. "He's a wretched _coward _and he will _never_ be worthy of Elsa, not if he apologized for the next _hundred_ years," she squeezed him in the slightest.

"What about a thousand?" Kristoff lightly joked in attempts to lighten her mood. She squeezed him tighter, but said nothing. He ran his hands down her back.

"I know he's a bastard, I won't deny that," he put his chin to her head again and stared hard out of the window. The curtains shifted enough to catch glimpses of the moon hanging across the sky. He forehead tensed. "And I probably hate him almost as much as you do only because of what he did to you, but we can't do anything about it."

"I couldn't live with myself if he tried to hurt her again," Anna whimpered. Kristoff wrapped his arms tight around her and held Anna in his arms, hushing her.

"Elsa's strong. I know she'd do anything to protect you," he leaned Anna back and held her face in both of his hands. "Besides, she can look after herself - you need to stop worrying so much." He kissed her forehead, and felt her small whisper escape from between her lips.

"I love you, Anna," he murmured into her forehead. She breathed back in, deep and slow, then kissed his chin.

"I love you, too…" she breathed out with shut eyes. He smiled briefly then finally let go, and stepped back. She seemed reluctant to leave the space of his arms, but understood nonetheless.

"You should try to talk to your sister tonight," he suggested, then tilted his head while backing up to the door. "I think she'd feel a lot better knowing her sister would be there to support her before she left." Anna nodded, though her face looked unsure, then forced a small smile onto her lips.

"Goodnight, Kristoff," she said. He just grinned and shut the door behind him. Once she was certain he'd left, the smile faded from her features as she turned back to the balcony. Weary sadness drew from her chest again as she stepped past the cream-colored curtains and out onto the balcony. Overhead the clouds shifted in and out of moonlight, casting moving shadows over the treetops. Far in the distance, she could see the mountains silhouette the horizon.

A whinny drew her attention as she looked far below to the edge of the woods that led out from the back kitchens. Three horses were tied near a tree in an opening. She tilted her head and studied the horses, recognizing only two of them as belonging first to her sister, and the second to Hans. Her stomach knotted a bit, and with a quick tense of her expression she ignored it and turned back to scour the woods for them both. She hadn't recognized the third horse.

A sharp twinge of panic bloomed in her chest when she saw a hooded figure prowling at the edge of the woods. The person had their back to Anna, making it impossible to discern any features.

Anna stared in frozen curiosity and fear as someone began to emerge from the trees. By the posture of his shoulders and shock of red hair, she immediately knew it was Hans… but where was her sister? Anna gripped the balcony rail as she waited for her to appear and never saw her sister emerge behind Hans. He was entirely unaware of the cloaked intruder as he stepped into the clearing, though obviously looked for someone. She waited and waited for some sign, then Hans called out and made her stomach drop.

"Elsa!" he sounded distressed. Anna's heart began to pound as she watched Hans, too, slowly move towards the three horses, then pause halfway there and hesitate in fear when he saw the other horse tied alongside both his and Elsa's. Before he could turn around, the cloaked assailant leapt forward, forcing Anna to slam a hand over her mouth in shock as she witnessed a clawed hand reach out and glow bright green behind him. Hans shouted and immediately fell to his knees, stunned by the attack. It was only then his assailant moved around front, and removed her shadowed cloak.

From Anna's perspective, she could hardly see her face, though knew well enough that a woman stood in front of him. Long, dark hair braided down her back and hid under the bulk of her cloak. She stooped in front of the immobile Hans, who now struggled to sit up. She spoke too quietly - Anna couldn't hear anything, and could only watch in horror as the scene unfolded. The woman spoke mutedly in his ear, and after a pause jumped back when Hans tried to grab at her. Anna held both hands to her mouth now, her heart pounding out of her chest, and had to squeeze her fingers over her jaw again when the woman drew her hand over Hans and shocked him with that unearthly glow of green magic again.

Hans went limp, and after ensuring he wouldn't get up again, she stood and covered her head and stooped to pick him up. She struggled to drag the unconscious body to her horse, then slung him over the back and climbed onto the saddle behind him and rode off. Anna couldn't wait any longer.

Her voice was stuck in her throat as she stumbled out of her door and began sprinting down the hallway. She didn't stop until she reached the bottom floor, and on her way to Elsa's room nearly toppled over her sister in her desperation to find her.

"ELSA!" she cried out in a hoarse, ragged breath. Elsa caught Anna in her arms and stared down at her in confusion and surprise, unsure of how to react.

"Anna, _what_-" she'd barely gotten her few words out before Anna cut her off.

"Hans is gone! They took him!" Anna relented, her chest nearly rupturing from the pressure. Her body shuddered as she sunk to the floor and began to cry. "I'm so sorry, it's all my fault. I didn't mean for this to happen," she wailed. Elsa, now blooming with her own panic, knelt down and put an urgent hand to Anna's back in order to will her on.

"Where? _Who_ took him?" she asked, her eyes widening. Anna looked up through blurry vision and had to fight another bout of tears as she held a hand to her chest and shook her head.

"I-I don't know, she wore a cloak," Anna relented. Elsa's eyes immediately darted back to the hallway leading out to the back forest, intent to go after him. Before she could fully rise, Anna grabbed at her dress and begged her to stop.

"Elsa, please- wait!" her voice cracked, and hesitantly Elsa knelt back down, though her body was rigid in urgency to go after him. It only made Anna's chest hurt more. "It's _my_ fault," she reiterated, and suddenly Elsa's accusing eyes turned on her.

"What did you do?" her voice was frigid. Anna nearly buckled over her tears again, though held fast to her spot in order to tell her sister the truth.

"I-I didn't want this, I just wanted to _help_ you-" Elsa's hands slowly drew away from her sister, now stung by her very presence. "I just wanted to _protect _you from _him_."

"What did you _do_, Anna?" Elsa's voice was low and demanding, and her eyes dangerous. Anna choked back the tears and clasped her shaking hands, begging her sister to turn her ire away with her next words. She couldn't bear to see it in her eyes.

"I wrote the King and told him to take Hans back to the Isles," she began to shake her head. "I didn't know they would send someone with _magic_-" she started, then watched as Elsa's roaming eyes turned back on her.

"Magic?" she tightened her jaw, and despite her iron posture she saw fear spark in her sister's gaze. Anna swallowed the last of her tears and nodded as Elsa relented and crouched beside her.

"I-I don't know what kind of magic - it wasn't like yours," she looked at the floor while trying to recall what she'd seen. "Some type of horrible, cursed powers - she hurt Hans with it," she worried her brow when she looked up again, unsure of how her sister would take the news.

"_She?_" Elsa's voice grew cold and accusing again. Anna's eyes widened when she saw the aggression in her features. She nodded fearfully.

"I-I couldn't really see her face, but she had long hair down her back-" Anna searched her memory. "I think she came from the Isles - her horse wore their emblem." Elsa's stood and suddenly stumbled back, gripping both sides of her head.

"Oh no, no, _no_…." her voice wavered on terror as she searched the floors with wide eyes. Anna stood as well, unsure of how to temper her sister in that moment. She reached out her shaking hands in fear and tried to comfort her, but Elsa backed herself into a wall and nearly stumbled again as she came to some form of terrible epiphany.

"What's wrong?" Anna finally asked, her own posture tight in fear of what would happen if her sister lost control. Already a small storm had begun to form around them. Anna tried to ignore it in lieu of provoking Elsa even more.

"It's not possible," Elsa's frigid voice murmured, barely audible above the growing storm around her. Anna shook her head.

"Elsa, I don't understand-" she pinched her face together, and held her cold hands to her chest. "What is it?" she begged. Elsa's wide eyes finally looked up, filled with imperceptible fears as she looked at her little sister.

"The King is in danger," she said in a breathless mutter. "I have to go," she immediately swept her gown around and the storm silenced itself. Anna followed after her, completely confused, and tried to keep up as her sister's stride changed into a jog.

"What do you mean? Where are you going?" she demanded as Elsa swung a hard right towards the courtyard, her head bent low. She didn't stop or answer her sister until they'd reached the back door of the kitchens. Anna realized where they were once the sisters stepped outside and she saw both Elsa and Hans' horse still tied to the tree. The third was gone. Elsa moved silently to her mare's side, and turned to Anna as she mounted Winter.

"I'm going to the Isles, you won't stop me Anna-" she looked down at her in utter determination. Anna only tightened her mouth before resolving herself as well, and nodded.

"Fine, then I'm going with you," she'd already moved to mount Hans' horse, pausing briefly to stare at the reins and saddle he'd touched, then climbed up and settled herself as well.

"Anna, _no_-" Elsa immediately heightened her tone, demanding her sister remain behind. Anna circled around and gave Elsa a stern look, her mouth tightened.

"You're _not_ going alone, Elsa."

After a long stare exchanged between the two, Elsa finally loosened her features and sighed, dropping her head.

"Okay…" she relented. Anna beckoned to Sitron, who took a few steps back before turning and breaking into a slow gallop for the docks. Halfway there Anna yanked on Sitron's leads and nearly threw herself as he reared back and shrieked from the abrupt change. Elsa immediately stopped as well and turned around.

"What?" she breathlessly asked. Anna's eyes were on the entrance to the castle.

"I have to tell Kristoff-" Anna's voice strained. Elsa shook her head.

"No time-" she stopped when Anna turned fiery eyes on her.

"I _have_ to!" she demanded before turning around and galloping back up the pathway to the courtyard. Elsa paused for a moment to consider leaving her sister, but felt her heart grow heavy at the thought and regretfully motioned Winter to follow after her. By the time she reached Anna, her sister had already dismounted and was speaking to Kristoff at the castle entrance. He held her in his arms.

"Elsa!" he immediately turned to the elder sister when she appeared, releasing his hold on Anna.

"I can go too," he tried to say, but Elsa held up her hand. The panic was beginning to crawl up her back already the longer they waited.

"There's no time, besides-" she glanced at Anna for resolve, who seemed just as set as she on leaving him behind. "I _need _you here," she nodded to him. Obviously Anna had already spoken to him about it, because after only a small pause and worried exchange with Anna he stepped back and nodded obediently.

"Keep her safe, please," he pleaded Elsa with worried eyes. She nodded mutedly then turned to her sister as she remounted Sitron.

"Come on," she urged Winter back into motion, exchanging one more glance with Kristoff before turning to race back down the steps to the docks. Anna paused only once before following, and fell in gallop beside her. "Will you be okay?" she asked Anna when she noticed a few tears streaking across her cheeks. She sniffed and covered her face with her arm as the wind whipped past them.

"I'm fine," she said.

Eventually they reached the shoreline, and while Anna began to trot alongside it, Elsa stopped at the very edge and faced the water. Anna turned Sitron around.

"What are you doing? The road is this way-" she tried to urge her on. Elsa stared out across the black waters that shifted slightly with the shore breeze. She breathed deep and settled her pounding heart, then looked to Anna with certainty.

"We're going across," she said. Anna blinked and leaned her head back for a moment as if she hadn't understood. She screwed up her face.

"What are you _talking _about?" she shook her head, then glanced to the empty docks. There were no boats nearby to prepare, and she knew as much as Elsa it would take too long.

"Do you trust me, Anna?" Elsa asked, her rigid voice now falling on a soft murmur. Anna's face loosened when she realized what her sister intended to do, and blinked - startled.

"Of course," she said without thought. Elsa's face tensed.

"No, I mean - do you _trust _me?" she held out her hand and let it briefly glow with silvery light. Anna swallowed hard and looked at the small spectacle, then down at her own hands. After a long pause, she finally spoke.

"I trust you, Elsa," she decided, her own expression reflecting the determination written on her sister's face. "I'll follow you, wherever you go." With her resolution in mind, Elsa nodded and turned back to the water.

"Stay behind me, and don't stop," were her only words before she eased Winter forward. Rather than sink below the water as Anna expected, she witnessed in awe as the horse stepped right atop the water. Glowing ice patterns swirled beneath the mare's hooves and forced a path with every step. Winter seemed tentative at first, but guided by Elsa's quiet murmurs of reassurance, she began to move into a slow trot. Elsa turned and looked at her sister then, and held out her hand.

"It's okay," she eased, then smiled. "Come on."

Moved by the confidence of her sister, Anna guided Sitron onto the blooming ice path with Winter. The two horses nosed each other briefly before Elsa motioned forward and began to trot again, then sped into a full gallop once she was certain Anna followed. Together, the two sisters rode across the ocean atop the ice path, far into the distance where the starlight touched the horizon. Anna galloped after her sister, urging Sitron on as they sped into a powerful gallop with the wind as their only company. Her eyes locked ahead on her sister's profile - resolute, determined, calm. She knew she could keep her safe, even if she wasn't certain herself what would happen. Anna would have to trust her.

_ Everything will be okay._


	12. Little Ansa

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the wait in-between updates! Real life and also self-consciousness regarding the introduction of the true villain of the story was a bit daunting haha. Also, you guys should check out my instrumental 8tracks playlists for this fanfiction! Just go to _8tracks shutterbones / mirror-s-edge-instrumental_ (no spaces) to listen to it, and read the annotations to see what chapters the songs correlate to for the ultimate reading experience. I'm constantly updating it to suit new chapters, but anyway I made it really for you guys to enjoy while you read. So check it out!

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"Ansa, come back inside!" her mother's laughter rang out into the street. Ansa did a twirl in the street, then danced back to the porch to allow her tending mother to fix her seams.

"I see someone likes her new dress," her father chuckles from inside the door while peeking out to check on his favorite two girls. Her mother turned her head and smiled at him, to which he softened and touched her chin with his thumb before disappearing back inside.

"Now be _careful_, Ansa-" her mother continued to fuss over the sleeves and hem, tugging and pulling this way and that while Ansa continued to squirm with her basket in hand. Her mother glanced up with chiding, brown eyes. "I don't want you ruining this dress like your last one," she raised a brow. Ansa bared her mother a toothy smile before nodding and hopping off the porch step into the street. A bit of dust settled on her shoes. Her mother sighed.

"I'll be safe, Momma," Ansa smiled to her mother then skipped off while swinging her basket. Her mother had a hand raised in objection, then sighed and leaned back against the doorframe, shaking her head with a smile.

Ansa passed by house after house until the buildings dwindled to nothing, and eventually she stood at the edge of town on the precipice of a long, dirt road that stretched far and wound through the mountains far beyond her sight.

At the end of the hill the road forked in two directions - one into a deep valley, and the other into the dark forest. At the edge of this forest sat an old, dilapidated cabin that once belonged to a trapper and his wife. They'd left many summers ago when the game became too sparse and his wife had a second child. Her mother told Ansa they moved to the city where her children could be raised safely. Ansa, not noticing the sad and guilty look in her mother's eyes when she told her the false tale, simply shrugged and said the woman's kids were never old enough to be good playmates in the first place.

As Ansa made her way down the winding dirt road, the ground beneath began to tremble until it grew to a thundersome roar beneath her feet. She barely managed to move out of the way before a large, rickety wooden cart tottered past, piled impossibly high with an assortment of old chests and furniture tied haphazardly with rope and old blankets. It shook and trembled like it would all fall out at any moment, though it never did. At the front of a cart a woman hunched down within the layer of a ragged cloak that covered most of her face.

As Ansa continued to stare at the strange sight, the woman slowed her cart and gradually turned her bowed head to look at the confused child. Her skin was gray and mottled, and hung from her bones like wet paper. Her eyes looked just as lifeless, and filmed over on one side with old age. After they both took in one another, the old woman slowly cracked a grin across her wrinkled mouth and bared her a toothless smile - to which Ansa immediately brightened and returned the gesture with her toothy, youthful grin. The old woman moved with the weight of stone as she ever so slowly turned back around and _hyupped_ her pack mule back into motion.

By late afternoon Ansa had all but forgotten about the strange woman, and instead spent the better half of her morning collecting berries. It was the first day of Spring, and usually she would collect wild roses to bring to her mother. She seemed to love them almost as much as Ansa did, and together they would place the delicate red flowers in a jar or vase to decorate all over the house. Today, however, no roses bloomed. Not a single one.

As Ansa returned from her morning excursion to the edge of town again, she realized something was dreadfully wrong. The town stray was not barking at the neighbor's cats. Her batty old neighbor was not shouting at the animals to shut up. There were no sounds of talking, or laughter, or the noisy cries of Miss Helen's newborn twins in the shop. As she approached closer, she realized there were no sounds at _all_ coming from town.

Ansa, as a young and confused little girl, did not know what to make of the sight as she stepped from between two buildings and approached the main street. Her neighbors and fellow townspeople lay face-down in the street, unmoving. Silent. Their skin had turned a strange gray shade entirely void of color. Many of them had their faces turned toward Ansa, and though their eyes were open a part of Ansa registered that these people were no longer awake. Not as they should be.

It wasn't until Ansa's eyes found the slumped forms of her parents on their doorstep that fear truly entered her heart. Her mother sprawled at an uncomfortable angle across the stoop, and over her back her father laid over her mother as if he'd shielded her from something. As she inched her way closer, trembling with each new step, she realized that they too were an ashen grey like the others.

"M-Momma?" Ansa's voice was frigid and shaken, much like her hands as she reached out for them both. She put her small fingertips to the side of her mother's face, and drew back when the cold shocked her skin. Tears now welled in her eyes as little Ansa collapsed beside her parents, abandoning her basket full of berries and stones, and wept beside them. She begged them to wake up, to stop pretending, but they never listened. They continued to stare into the distance with that empty, slightly pained expression void of consciousness.

Ansa moved through stages of quietly crying, then in a bout of hysterics tried shaking both of her parents and screaming for them to wake up, and eventually sunk back into her cocoon of grief and sobbed again at their sides until she had no more tears to spend. When all she could do was sniff back the tears that had long dried up and stare at their lifeless forms, someone approached from behind and placed their hand on Ansa's head.

It was the same old woman from before, though not as little Ansa remembered. Her stringy gray hair now gleamed silver in a perfectly formed bun, and her skin - which had hung from her bones as if it were melting away - now creased her face in lines of laughter that pinkened her chubby cheeks. She smiled down at poor Ansa, and in her overwhelming sadness and fear the small child stood up and clung to the woman's dress as the last source of stability in her crumbling world. The old woman hushed her tears, and together they walked back to the cabin at the edge of the woods.

In time, Ansa would forget about the loss of her parents as well as the village itself. The old woman, soon after scooping the child up to her new home at the edge of the woods, insisted Ansa call her Nana, and substituted as a welcome mother-figure to the grieving child whenever she needed it.

Ansa did not realize that every time she buried her small face into her Nana's dress or let her Nana wipe her tears away, that she somehow forgot her parents a little more each time. However, since each time she replaced her sadness with a little comfort, Ansa did not seem to mind so much.

She did not like to feel so much at once, so after a time she ignored the strangeness of it and let her mind forget entirely about the bad memories - about her mother and father and all of the people that were gone. Eventually, she forgot her reasons all together for being sad and from that moment on only remembered her Nana, and how kind she had always been to her.

On the first day that following spring her Nana fell ill. Ansa, overcome with an unsettling fear of losing someone, asked her poor Nana what she could do. Nana looked at her with watery, tired eyes and smiled, then asked Ansa if she loved her Nana. Ansa, as always, hugged her weary grandmother and said of course.

Nana seemed to feel a little better after that, but was still sick. So then her grandmother took her by the shoulders and asked Ansa to bring a traveler to their home. She did not say how or who, simply to find someone and bring them to the cabin at the edge of the woods.

Ansa, fretting that her grandmother needed a doctor, heeded her Nana's request and set off to find someone. She was lucky that same afternoon a merchant man was crossing their roads, and had stopped at the abandoned village thinking he could resupply. His attention was immediately caught when a small, frail little girl no older than ten appeared from between two houses and begged for him to follow her. Concerned, the man climbed down from his carriage and immediately followed little Ansa.

Though the man's heart paced at the sight of their strange shack at the edge of the woods, his concern for the frightened little girl drove him onward and through the creaky wooden door on the porch. Inside he was relieved to see only a kindly old woman rocking in her chair. Barely had he stepped inside and asked what the two girls were doing so far out in the wilderness when her Nana leapt from her rocking chair and tackled the man to the floor.

Ansa watched in horror as her grandmother wrenched the poor man's mouth open, then began to inhale with the force of a storm that built a bright purple glow between them both. The man buckled and arched as she sucked the light right from his body, all the while Ansa covering her ears and huddling in the corner as she watched her Nana drain the last bits of life from the merchant.

When she was finished, all that remained was a husk of a body, much like the ones she'd seen in the village but had forgotten entirely in the span of a year. All Ansa could do was cower in the corner with covered ears and shake her head back and forth as she remembered old fears that no longer connected to memories.

It took three days to coax Ansa from her room. Once she realized her Nana was the only one who could protect her, she slowly opened her door and looked up at the gentle woman with tears in her eyes. Her Nana always seemed to find the right words to soothe the small girl's conscious.

"Do you love your Nana?" she asked. Ansa looked slow and sad at the floor before replying.

"Of course," she instinctively replied while blinking away the tears, then let her small fingers fall from the door frame in surrender. Her grandmother crouched in front of her and bared Ansa a bright, happy smile.

"And wouldn't you do anything to help your Nana?" she asked next, her aged knuckles curling around Ansa's shoulders. She briefly looked down before regarding her Nana's smile with tentative eyes.

"Yes," her voice began to shrink when her Nana's smile stretched too wide. She winced when she tightened her grip.

"And wouldn't your Nana do _anything_ to protect you, Ansa?" she asked in a stern voice. Slowly Ansa nodded, and only then did her Nana release her grip in favor of patting the little girl's face. "There's a good girl," she soothed her. Then, tilting her chin to force Ansa to look her in the eyes, she softened her features and frowned at her in an odd way. "As long as you stay with me, I'll make sure no one _ever_ hurts you," she raised her brow at Ansa, and tilted her head forward. "You can be a carefree, happy little girl as long as you like - _always_ and forever. How does that sound?" she smiled again and softened her gaze.

Ansa brightened at this prospect, quickly forgetting her fears as she drew comfort from her Nana's confident smile and grinned back. She couldn't imagine anything better in the world than to pick flowers and berries all day and have her Nana bake pies for the rest of their lives. To little Ansa, that seemed like heaven.

"I'd really like that, Nana," Ansa nodded her head up at down, her confidence rising by the comforting hand of her grandmother. Once she had forgotten her fears, her Nana took hold of her shoulders again and steeled her gaze.

"Then you must _always_ do as your Nana asks," she hardened her voice again and frowned. "Even if it frightens you, Ansa. You_ must _do it to protect your Nana and keep her safe, okay?"

Ansa, who understood big emotions but not small ones, realized how greatly important this task was and looked down at her feet before nodding.

"Yes, Nana…" she murmured.

"There's a good girl," her Nana cooed and petted her hair. "Now how about we bake a pie?"


	13. Mirror's Edge

**Author's Note: **The next chapter we'll get back to Prince Hans, I promise! This backstory was really important to establish about Ansa though - hopefully you guys understand. Also apologies for the frightening themes haha. I never intended to write it so dark, it just came out that way.

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Just as her Nana promised, Ansa never aged or worried again from that day onward. In time, she grew to accept her role as a cryptic assistant to her Nana's need to consume the life of other people. As the years went by, Ansa honed herself into a master manipulator in order to trick travelers into entering her grandmother's house - which wasn't so difficult, considering Ansa bore the eternal resemblance of a happy little girl.

Ten years passed and Ansa eventually forgot her guilt over leading the unwary victims to their death. The process became mundane, even, as she tirelessly goaded unsuspecting men and women week after week into the clutches of her ravenous grandmother's den. Just as she'd forgotten about her parents, Ansa quickly forgot about the merchant man and the horrible image that had stuck in her mind for so long.

After that day, she turned her back and simply ignored it with dull ears and shuttered eyes. Her grandmother was more important than strangers. That's what she told herself. Whenever it grew to be too much again and she felt the sharp prick of guilt tap her shoulder, her Nana always found ways to soothe the concerned child until she forgot them again. Ansa's grandmother had a strange way about making her worries seem small.

It was on a warm summer afternoon that it happened. It had been a month since her Nana collected a soul, and she was growing restless. Ansa had decidedly taken up residence in the center of the abandoned village, tired of hearing her Nana complain. She always grew so cranky when she had to wait too long in-between her meals. It was in this spot, entirely unaware as she poked at the dirt with a stick, that a little boy appeared.

"Whatcha doing?" he shielded his eyes to look down at her. Ansa, who hadn't seen a boy her age in years, turned slow eyes up to his face. He squinched a freckled nose and peered at her from under a mop of curly brown hair. He wasn't older than eight or nine, by the looks of it.

"Nothing…" she answered, then quickly stood up. "Hey, where are your parents?" she asked while brushing off the seat of her tattered, blue dress. The little boy blinked for a moment before remembering something, then dropped his head low.

"I-I don't know," he confessed. Ansa stopped fussing with her dress and looked at him. He had tears in his eyes. "Papa thought he heard something - so he told me to run and find the nearest village. I ran and ran until I couldn't anymore, then I found this place." He was wiping snot and tears from his face now, which triggered Ansa's sympathy.

"Hey, I'm sure he's not far behind," she eased while placing her hands on her knees. The little boy looked up.

"Well, he said that two days ago," he murmured while glancing mournfully back down the road. "He should have been here by now," he added, then crumpled his face once the realization struck him and began to cry again. Ansa felt a strange, uncomfortable sensation squirm in her chest upon hearing his cries for his dead father. She reached out and hugged the boy without thought, perching her worried face atop his head. He welcomed the gesture and gripped her dress, sobbing harder.

Once he'd relented his tears, Ansa pulled him back and smiled. "You must be hungry, I bet?" she tried to cheer him up. After he wiped the excess snot from his nose, he looked up and nodded. Ansa stretched a warm smile across her face. "Come on, I'm sure my Nana can cook you something nice."

In her heart Ansa meant well. She'd had every intention of helping the boy - maybe even asking her Nana if they could keep him. She dearly needed a playmate, after all. He could be the perfect companion, like her own living doll. She was already contemplating all the wonderful adventures they could go on while walking back to the cabin when the door slammed open and out stepped her grandmother. Her wide eyes latched onto the boy like a plump prize, and instinctively Ansa gripped his hand tighter before calling to her Nana.

"Nana, this boy lost his father in the woods!" she shouted.

Her Nana wouldn't stop staring at the boy. He was beginning to slow down beside her. Ansa persisted, keeping her grip tight on his hand. "_It's okay-_" she whispered to him. "She won't hurt you."

"Nana, I thought we could bring him inside and make him stew?" she tried. Her Nana slowly turned her wild eyes on the girl - teeth glistening, mouth contorted. "I-I thought he could stay here… maybe? A-At least until we could find a way-" Ansa's shaken voice cut off with a horrible shriek as her Nana leapt from the porch and materialized beside the boy, wrenching him from her hands. By the time Ansa pulled her off, nothing but a limp, grey form remained. His eyes were shut in eternal slumber, and his face still hung on the fringe of a scream that never escaped.

In that awful moment, Ansa forgot about her grandmother. She forgot the reasons why she'd helped her Nana, and consequently her reasons for staying. Ansa no longer cared - all she could feel in that moment was her surge of overwhelming anguish. As her grandmother composed herself and turned to Ansa, she began to slowly back towards the door, shaking her head. Her tears blurred her vision and hands shook at her sides. She sensed the edge in her Nana's voice as she reached out a barely restrained hand and called for Ansa.

Ansa turned and bolted into the house and locked the door behind her. Immediately her Nana set to banging against it with all her might and cursed Ansa's name through the window. Ansa gripped her skull when a sharp pain shot through it, then began to frantically look around for supplies. She gathered her basket and tossed some stale bread and cheese into it, then her doll and cloak. She paused at the stairwell and looked down into the yawning darkness. A very long time ago, Ansa had asked what her Nana used the cellar for. From time to time she watched her Nana unlock the doors from deep beneath the house and return with fresh, wild game in her hands to cook with. Her Nana had looked at her with that dry, empty smile and said to never, ever, _ever_ go into the cellar.

Ansa knew that her grandmother did not hunt, or leave the house hardly at all for that matter. In her mind, she worked out the reasoning that perhaps the cellar lead outside to some old traps her Nana had found in the house when she first moved here. After all, it use to belong to a trapper. Compelled by her urgency to escape, Ansa gathered her things and took one last look at the thrashing door before disappearing down the stairs.

She managed to bash open the rusty old lock on the cellar door after a couple of tries with the help of a hammer lying on the floor. Once she yanked both of the narrow doors open, a cold breeze wafted over her face. Surely, then, Ansa knew it _had_ to lead outside. After a slight shudder, Ansa pulled on her cloak and merged into the shrouded dark of the cellar. At the bottom of the stairs her feet met cold, natural stone. She moved tentatively, and after her eyes adjusted little Ansa realized it was not a cellar at all, but an enormous cave.

After a half-hour of wandering, Ansa came to a giant maze of mirrors with very narrow walkways. A noise drew her attention as she jumped and noticed a small figure flash across the mirrors. She turned again and again, until finally the figure fell still and she realized it was a small rabbit. Little Ansa smiled and reached into her basket for a carrot, then held it out to the creature. It approached with caution, though driven on by its hunger, hopped forward and began to tentatively nibble on the snack.

"Now where did you come from?" she asked out loud while surveying the glass maze. After some thought, she brightened in revelation. "You must have wandered in from outside," she continued. The rabbit paid her no mind, and continued to chew. "I wonder where from, though?" Ansa began to look all around, then paused when her eyes caught something glimmering on the roof of the cave.

A glass trap door around the size of the rabbit, if not slightly bigger, rotated back and forth with the force of an airy breeze high above. It had been crudely carved to suit the gap it settled over, and shifted on long hinges. A few dead leaves slipped through and fell from the great height, fracturing the thin thread of light that managed to pierce the shallow tear in the cave stone. As Ansa followed curious eyes along the cave's ceiling, she realized there were at least a half-dozen more of the constructed traps, all as poorly made as the last. Her eyes turned back to the poor rabbit that had obviously fallen through one of the unfortunate traps.

"So that's how Nana catches you," she mused aloud. "You were lucky to survive the fall, little friend," she smiled to the poor thing. By the thin, ragged shape of its body, the creature had been trapped in the maze for some time now. Ansa set the carrot down and stood up, looking about. "I guess I'll have to find another way out…"

In that next moment, a low bellow echoed through the distance of the cave. Ansa gasped and ducked down, effectively spooking her new rabbit friend. It leapt into the air then darted away into the labyrinth of the mirror maze before she could stop it. Sighing, Ansa retracted her outstretched hand and stood back up while gathering her things, then set off through the maze herself. Eventually she supposed she would find the other side, and maybe _then _she could find a way outside.

In the many years she'd spent with her grandmother, Ansa had never bothered to look at herself much considering she never aged. However, on occasion she would witness her reflection in the silver of a spoon or by the glimmer of a pond or river. In those brief interludes, she had unconsciously memorized every line, every curve, every specific shape of her face and body over the last ten years. Now, as she walked down the endless rows of mirrors, she was forced to see herself from every angle - and it was in this moment Ansa realized something was certainly not right.

She looked much older than she remembered - and definitely much older than any ten-year-old girl ought to look. Ansa had never had reason to fear or anticipate age as other children did, but as she looked at her own reflection, the terror of mortality began to sink deep into her pounding chest as she watched her face transform before her own eyes. Baby fat began to visibly recede from her features, forming into shapely, defined cheekbones and a pert mouth.

She stared in horror as her figure changed as well. Her hair began to inch down her back in waves of dark brown; her arms lengthened and legs straightened little by little as the seconds passed by. Another bellow in the distance forced Ansa back into motion as she tucked her teary gaze downward and soldiered on, intent to ignore the stranger reflected back at her from the mirrors.

By the time she found her way out of the maze, her dress had become considerably tighter. She ripped the sleeves to give her arms room, then tore off her shoes and tossed them into the abyss. She followed along the wall under her fingers found a gap in the otherwise smooth stone wall and pulled open a hidden door that had been carved right out of its structure. As she made her way down the stone steps into another cavern, she felt another cold breeze brush the side of her neck, and turned towards it.

Ansa moved down the narrow pathway until it opened up into another enormous, open cavern. The ceiling stretched impossibly high and formed giant stalagmites that dripped water every so often onto the floor. The sound of the drops echoed off the walls and created an echoing melody that drifted throughout the cave.

Ansa's eyes eventually found a faint light at the other end of the cave in the shape of an exit. She instinctively moved towards it, then suddenly felt her bare feet anchored to the ground once she'd reached the center of the room. Something brushed the back of her neck, which caused her to jump and turn around only to find no one behind her. Instead, there stood an enormous mirror she hadn't noticed before in the very center of the cavern.

As Ansa's attention shifted to the new object, she felt pebbles run across her toes and looked down in curiosity. The mirror itself seemed to pulse with life, and emitted a low, unsettling hum that shifted gravel across the ground at its base. Though its silver structure and golden frame was magnificent, she couldn't help but feel her body tensing in apprehension the closer she drew - yet she could not manage to stop herself from approaching. Her eyes roamed its great surface with wonder and fear, and as she drew up to its very front it seemed to shift in a spectrum of colors she had never seen before.

It was finally then that Ansa realized the mirror reflected something back to her, though it was not what she expected. As she stepped fully in front of it, the gentle breeze grew to a steady torrent that lifted her growing hair from the back of her neck. It glided behind her in a ribbon of chocolate brown, entirely weightless.

Though her ears undoubtedly deceived her, she swore she heard singing of all things coming from the ancient mirror. As she looked up from her feet, she realized her reflection was not as it should be - at least not in the same way she'd come to realize only a short while ago in the mirror maze. Unlike in the labyrinth, this one reflected back a beautiful woman dressed in a flowing black gown that glittered like the scales of a dragon, and shining golden feathers as those of a magnificent eagle. Her dark silk hair braided down the length of her back, and around her head laced a silver crown.

The reflected woman poised in the mirror as if admiring herself, and turned a small smile at the corner of her lovely mouth. Ansa stared in wonder at the woman, who seemed to her the prettiest sight she'd ever seen. As the woman turned again, Ansa noticed a fractured section of the mirror - nearly invisible to the naked eye. Crouching for closer inspection, Ansa reached out to touch the fracture, only to have her finger pricked on the mirror's edge.

She drew back with a start and cradled her wounded finger, staring in offense at the shard. To her shock, the blood that hung from the shard's tip suddenly absorbed into the mirror's surface as if it were a part of the mirror itself. The low hum grew to a roar as the surface trembled, causing Ansa to stand in panic and back away. The wind howled around her and whipped her hair aimlessly in every direction, making it impossible to see. She fought to see in front of her, all the while backing away from the trembling mirror that now pulsed bright red.

A red hand materialized from the silver surface as nothing but smoke, then another until a dozen ghostly hands were crawling out of the mirror. Ansa screamed and began to run for the exit, only to have her feet drawn from beneath her. The hands took hold of her ankles, her legs, her body - then began to drag her back to the mirror that now sang in a crescendo of horrible shrieks and bellows.

No matter how hard she fought, it continued to drag her closer until she could see only the bright, seething red of the mirror in her vision. It grew into an angry chorus of a thousand voices and rang in her ear. She covered her ears and shut her eyes and began to cry, begging to wake up from this nightmare.

The screaming suddenly stopped, as did the low hum that threaded through her chest. Just as she began to open her eyes, a cold and terrible pain greater than she'd ever felt pierced directly through her chest and burned every cavern in her body. She opened her mouth to cry out, only to find her lungs robbed of air, and every part of her suddenly frozen in that moment. She fell silent and opened her eyes, then looked directly into the mirror.

_ You belong to us now…._


	14. By the River

**Author's Note: **Finally got a chance to edit this chapter, so you get an updated chapter and a new one as well for tonight! Yay! Also, fourteen-year-old Hans is a little asshat haha. This was a fun chapter to write. As always, thank you guys SO much for your continued support, follows, and reviews it means so much to me to know how much everyone likes this story. You guys give me the drive to keep writing it, so thanks!

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Ansa gasped for breath, still stumbling through the trees even though the threat had long since passed a few days prior. She clung to the rags that hung from her body in shapeless clusters of brown and gray. She had found them inside one of the houses in her village before she left, and quickly wrapped herself in the moldy fabric before abandoning that forsaken place forever.

Her legs felt like newly sprung twigs held under the weight of an iron mountain. Each step became slower until she was struggling just to raise her foot. She had ran for nearly two days straight - long past the point of tearing muscle and flesh, of breathing in daggers through her lungs until her chest burned like fire, and her bones began to throb with the ache of weight on deadened feet. Her breath came out in dry, rattled wheezes, and her hands shook violently around the gripped fabric covering her body.

When she thought she could no longer go on, and here - in this miserable tomb of leaves and dirt - would be her final resting place, she took one more laborious step through the trees and met the blinding light of open day. The trees ended behind her, and directly in front she could see the smooth stone pathway along a harbor. A few gulls cried overhead and swooped by, then flew over the rooftops of a few houses that dotted the shore. She'd reached the bay.

A bellman called again for final docking on a ship, immediately turning Ansa's attention in their direction. A few people climbed onboard with their luggage in hand, and immediately Ansa felt her heart pace. Living, breathing people. Dozens of them, if not more. In Ansa's entire life she'd never seen so many people. Shopkeepers, dockmen, fishermen, merchants, bakers, soldiers, and so many other types of interesting people that crowded the busy cobblestone street by the docks.

As she tentatively took her first step onto the road, she barely managed to avoid a cart that flew by. The driver shouted and led his crying horse around the girl, shouting at her again as he passed to be careful. Bristled and wide-eyed, Ansa clung hard to the fabric of her garments and ducked between two houses. Her eyes drank in the sight of the docks with wonder and fear, watching as children passed by with their bemused parents, dogs played in the streets, and a baby cried for its mother outside of a shop.

Ansa was only disrupted when the back porch the house she hid between opened and startled her, forcing her to bolt from her hiding spot and through a back alley. Eventually she stumbled on a freshly-hung clothes line, and after a tentative pause, yanked off the first clothes she could find and hid behind a farmer's shed to change.

As she emerged from behind the small building and picked at the plain gray dress that hung a bit too heavy for comfort, she heard the bellman make a final call for patrons to board the ship. Ansa looked down at her hands that weren't so small anymore and hair that hung too long and wild, then clenched her fists. The forest beckoned with evil claws - just daring her to step foot inside of it again. There she would only find fear and danger - there the dark awaited.

Still filled with fear and uncertainty, Ansa forced herself from between two houses and stepped forward into the broad light of day. She clenched her fists at her sides and followed a couple right onto the boat, not bothering to glance at the sleepy bellman who assumed she was the couple's daughter, then slipped to the lower decks once the crew busied themselves with casting off.

She had no idea where the boat was headed, nor if her destination would hold more promise than the small fishing town she'd chosen to abandon, but Ansa's only focus was to put as much distance between herself and that cursed cabin as fast as possible. Her legs would no longer carry her, and she did not know how to ride a horse. Wherever this ship led her, she would continue to run until the world ended - and only then would she rest. Only then would she feel safe again.

The only trouble with this entire journey was that every step further from her Nana was another minute lost, another day aged by the second. As she was carried further from her cursed home, Ansa grew faster until she nearly resembled a full-grown adult only a day's journey in. On the eve of the second day, an overly curious crewman had the misfortune of finding the no-longer-little Ansa curled up between two crates in the hold, and startled the poor girl.

Until that moment, Ansa had not come in direct contact with anyone since her Nana or the poor boy she had stolen the life of. Ever since what happened in the enchanted cavern, Ansa had been terrified to touch anyone or anything. A part of her feared she had been cursed with the same powers of her Nana, if not worse. However, in that moment the crewman grabbed hold of her arm in the dark of the cabin, she realized fully what had been done to her.

The man seized up in an instant, his concerned expression giving way to pain as he buckled over himself and released her arm. A wave of warmth flooded into Ansa's body, sweeter than any honey she'd tasted, and more refreshing than any drink she'd taken. Life filtered back into her bones like fresh water over a desert, and only after a few seconds it left entirely. She gasped and fell back from the man, both confused and invigorated.

Unlike her grandmother, she had not reduced him to an ashen corpse. Instead, he simply seemed to sink to his knees and forget himself as well as his curiosity that had compelled him moments ago. Ansa watched, fearful, as he looked up at her with empty eyes and slowly drew back to his feet. He said nothing to Ansa as he turned around and shuffled back to the upper decks.

It was long into the night as Ansa studied her skin - which had seemed so lifeless and gray before, now glowing with youth - that she realized what she'd done. While she did not take his life, Ansa had taken a part of him that most people treasured and protected with their life - she had stolen his love. His joy. His curiosity. A part of Ansa knew, deep down, that to take such precious feelings from someone was fundamentally wrong - and that it was not her right to steal them from others. But Ansa was afraid, and driven on by her fear of change and dying, she chose to steal these gifts in lieu of preserving her own life.

By the time the boat shored, Ansa had attacked all but one of the ship's men in her growing need to stop aging. By the fourteenth man, she learned how to take only a little joy from him to supplement herself. Whether it was by her own learned skills or another effect of her curse, Ansa found it disturbingly easy to convince the men to follow her into the dark where she could steal their life force in quiet.

Ansa had to believe she was not like her Nana. That she had not chosen this fate, and nor did she revel in her cursed need to take the happiness and love from others. It was sickening to realize that it was only sweeter when given, rather than taken, and Ansa all the while fed off it like a hungry parasite.

After the first night they docked at their destination, Ansa disappeared into the first thick of trees she could find and wept. She would end up just as her Nana, cursed and frightened, and destined to be alone until the day she was willing to steal life from others. Surely, though, simply borrowing the love and joy of others was better than leaving them an empty corpse? She was not like her Nana - at least not yet - and Ansa had to believe she would never become so cruel.

Ansa slept on the forest floor that night between two boulders, and in the morning she rose from her dirt bed and continued walking her endless march into the wilderness. Her tired body was still recovering from her last journey, and only after a half-hour did her feet give out entirely and she was forced to collapse beside a river. Already her body screamed again for the life supplement she had only just discovered a day before. Dismayed and exhausted, she crawled to a rock to sit upon and covered her face with her hands and cried.

"Why are you crying?" a boy asked. She looked up from tear-stained palms to find a young boy no older than fourteen tilting his head and scrunching up a freckled nose. He peered at her from under a shock of messy red hair, though someone had obviously fussed to comb it back. A loving mother, perhaps.

"I-I'm not crying," Ansa sniffed and turned her head away, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. It must seem a strange sight to see someone who looked as grown as she did now, sitting in the forest and crying. It only upset her more to think how old she'd gotten in only a few days. She would never get to be a little girl again, never get to pick berries and bake pies. It was enough to nearly send her into another fit of dismay. The boy stepped beside her and leaned forward, tilting his head to look at her.

"Yes you were," he said pointedly. "I watched you cry for at least five minutes. Probably more." He scrunched his nose again and straightened. "Did you lose someone?" he asked. Ansa thought of her grandmother, and immediately her tears dried. Then she thought of the poor boy with the curly brown hair and bright eyes. He had barely been eight years old.

"I-I don't know," she trembled. She couldn't tell the boy the truth - he wouldn't understand.

"Don't know? Either you do or you don't," he chided in a way that began to annoy Ansa. She turned her frustrated eyes back to him and paused when she took in his appearance a second time. He wasn't dressed at all like the last little boy she'd talked to, nor anyone she'd ever seen for that matter. He wore a tailored white coat and navy blue vest decorated by a red and yellow star symbol. His clothes were far too nice to be a merchant's son. Far too clean to be a seaman's son, either. Ansa slowly raised her head to his face, and scrunched her brow.

"Who _are_ you?" she said slowly. The boy scarcely paused to absorb her question before continuing his investigation.

"Prince Hans Westergard of the Southern Isles," he quickly stated, then frowned at Ansa. "You still didn't answer my question - why were you crying?" Ansa blinked.

"I-I don't know why," she lied while turning back around to contemplate. She stared at both of their shifting reflections in the river, and realized in newfound grief just how much older she looked than the boy Hans. Six or seven years, at the very least. It took all of her willpower not to start crying again, so instead Ansa gripped hold of the fabric of her too-small dress that didn't belong to her and gritted her teeth.

"Were you being mistreated by your siblings?" the aggravating boy prince persisted. Ansa realized he would not give up, and glanced sidelong at the overly curious child. He looked perplexed, though still held an airy reserve to his posture she assumed most royalty were taught from a young age.

"No, I don't have any," she said flatly, now void of her grief. The annoying boy prince had quickly replaced her sorrow with gnawing aggravation.

"Well then, you're lucky," the prince sighed while crouching down beside her at the river. He poked a stick at a few rocks near the edge of the bank, dropping them down into the water with noisy _plops_.

"Why's that?" Ansa gave up on her stony silence in lieu of hearing the troubles Prince Hans clearly wanted to tell someone about. It wasn't as if she had anything else to do, after all. Hans paused to look at her, then put on his most animated voice to tell her his story.

"Having siblings is the _worst_," he emphasized. "Especially when you have twelve of them."

"That many, huh?" Ansa perched her chin on her hand and crossed her legs.

"That's not the worst of it."

"What is, then?"

"All of them are _older_ than me, which means I get treated like a baby all the time."

"I guess that would get frustrating."

"You _guess?_ That's still not the worst of it - two of my brothers, Elias and Emil, have pretended I'm _invisible_ for the last two years!"

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"It is when they get your own mother to do it too…"

Ansa felt her chest tighten at the mention of his mother. The word only provoked muddy images and feelings, though nothing definitive. She had no home to place her feelings for _'mother'_. Sensing her change of mood, the boy prince Hans' face crumpled a bit in concern when he looked at her again.

"Where's your mother anyway? Did she die? My mom says when you grow up you don't have parents anymore. Is that true?" he was an endless well of questions and curiosity - something she now strangely envied for its signature of true youth. Despite herself, Ansa opened her mouth to answer though her mind had already shuttered itself.

"My mother died a long time ago," she found the words long before she realized their truth. Her mother was dead. So was her father. Why could she only now remember that?

"Oh…" Hans paused in his questioning to dwell on her answer, then looked up again. "You must be all alone then." Even though it hurt to hear it out loud, Ansa felt a certain comfort in knowing it.

"I am," she agreed. Hans tilted his head and wrinkled his freckled nose again before looking at his reflection.

"It's not so bad, y'know," he shrugged. "I kind of like being by myself anyway." She frowned.

"Well I don't," Ansa said a bit too aggressively. Then, sighing, she laced her fingers and glanced at her reflection again. She still aged by the minute, lengthening the gap between the two as each second dragged by. "You'll get tired of being alone after a while," she said.

"You should live in the castle, then," Hans half-snorted. "With all the servants and brothers and moms and dads fussing over you all the time, you'd never be lonely again."

"Is that so?" Ansa slowly turned and perked in interest. Hans, unperturbed by her change of mood, just nodded and remarked in that same irritated tone on his so-called hardships.

"I don't really see the point in being called a prince when I'll never be king anyway," he crossed his arms. Ansa straightened her posture and looked directly at Hans.

"Why's that?"

"Hello?" Hans pointed to himself, "I'm the youngest." Then, crossing his arms, he hunkered down again and glared at the water. "The youngest doesn't get the crown."

"And who does?"

"My oldest brother Kasper. He likes to pretend he's my dad too, but our real dad says he won't pass down the crown until he's ready," he explained. "Though he sure already acts like it by the way he bosses me around," he added in a grumble.

"Your subjects must really love you, I bet," Ansa's voice sounded wistful and slightly sad as she leaned back over herself and cupped her face in both hands, turned to face Hans entirely.

"They love the King and Queen, not me," he pouted. "No one cares about the thirteenth prince."

"I do," Ansa brightened and tilted her head. Hans turned to finally realize her full attention and blinked.

"Thanks I guess?" he screwed up his face, caught off guard by her statement. She continued to stretch that strange smile over her face, blinded by her own greed and anxiousness.

"What if I told you I could help you become a King?" Ansa's voice shifted into a smooth drawl of velvety invitation, almost purring. Hans in his confusion, took a small step back and unfurled his arms.

"I told you there's twelve brothers in front of me," he said in an accusing tone, his face now crumpled in slight fear. Ansa sat forward and clasped her hands together, desperate to keep Hans in control and make him understand. Whether or not she'd intended it, her powers managed to keep him anchored to his spot, though had no effect on his rising suspicion and newfound fear.

"That's not a problem," she murmured.

"What do you mean?"

"There are ways to fix that…"

Hans began to shake his head and try to step away, alarm now ringing on every part of his features. Ansa was possessed by her vicious want, encased in a vision of love and prosperity to last her entire life. The demon mirror burned in her heart with an ache she could not ignore, forcing her to continue. Making her want to.

"You don't mean to-" Hans began in a shaky voice.

"There are _many_ ways, young prince, that don't result in death," she assured him with a pressing smile and hooded eyes. He looked a little less afraid after this, though his brow still creased together in ever-present concern. Ansa's hands shook as she clasped them together harder, her heart throbbing in her chest and skin tightened on her bones. "What would you do to have the chance to be King?"

These were the words that shut the small opening between them. Hans took a full step away and shook his head, frowning.

"I would never do anything to hurt my brothers-" he began to back away. "I wouldn't want to anyway," he said decidedly. Panic screamed in Ansa's body to stop him, suddenly filled with foreign rage that he would not agree with her. While Ansa herself was not a cruel or unkind person, the mirror had affected her in a strange way that willed the young woman to do things she would never consider doing in her right might.

Now that she had tasted the life of others, and known what it was like to breathe in the pure love of another, she could not help herself. Whether or not she'd wanted to harm the prince, it was no longer in her control. The prize of being an appointed advisor or even _queen_ to a kingdom with the unfiltered love of its people was too much to ignore. If she became a queen, she would never have to hurt anyone again. She would never have to face the lonely horrors of being like her grandmother.

"You _must_, though," she gritted her teeth and rose after the retreating prince, who turned in time to see the green glow forming around her hands. His eyes immediately widened as he froze and stared at the sickly magical aura that bloomed bright around her clawed fingers. Ansa's frown turned into a snarl as the poison began to consume her. "There isn't any other way, prince," she stepped forward, her face a tentative expression of confusion and anger.

Her shaking hands reached out over the petrified young prince and began to pulse the closer she drew. He was only a few feet from her now. She could feel his heartbeat in her fingertips send electric chills up her arms, demanding to rip out his very soul. She forced control over her body, knowing she needed him - knowing he was the only way in.

Hans continued to back away, though slower, and his eyes still locked on her glowing hands. "You must listen to me now," she clenched her jaw and pressed harder, silently demanding he stop moving. Her magic pulsed. Hans gasped and suddenly fell to his knees beside the river. The green glow began to creep around his arms and legs like chains, climbing up from the ground itself to anchor him there and bind him to the earth.

"_W-What is this?_" he struggled to speak as the chains continued to wrap around him. Ansa, too consumed by her growing hunger, ignored his pleas and only tightened the chains more whenever he struggled. He began to thrash about until finally he managed to wrench himself from one of the chains and stumbled into the river. He was halfway across in waist-deep water when she staggered in after him and caught hold of his arm.

"You _will_ obey me," she snarled and took hold of his neck with her other hand, slapping his hands away when he tried to tear off her grip. He began to kick and thrash until Ansa took hold of him with both hands and plunged him under. He had to understand, had to know how important it was for her to do this. She wouldn't have to hurt anyone anymore. She wouldn't have to be alone.

"_Listen_ to me!" she began to blink tears from her eyes the further she held him under the water, burning her wild eyes into his own. "_Calm down_," she repeated this phrase until his hands fell lax from her wrists and he stopped fighting. When his heartbeat nearly stopped and his body stilled, she felt his resistance finally give in. Power flooded her veins - sweet resolution.

"_Hans? _Confound it, where did you go? Mother is getting worried!" a man shouted in the distance. She could hear him bumbling through the trees, heading right in their direction. The man was less than twenty yards away. Ansa, already drained of the little power she'd used, released Hans and let him come up. He gasped and sputtered for air while she regained herself.

After climbing down from the blinding high she'd been locked in, Ansa looked about her in a state of unsettled sobriety. She exchanged a look of pure confusion and fear with Hans, then whipped her head back in the direction of the man as he shouted again. He was less than twenty paces away.

Ansa was already on the riverbank when Hans made his way to it as well. She had just used magic she wasn't entirely in control of - on a _prince_. For that matter, she didn't know exactly what effect she'd had on him in the first place. She hadn't taken his joy or happiness, but something different burned in her veins. Something darker. Realizing her position, she grabbed hold of his arm in a frantic attempt to fix the situation. Burning her eyes into his own, she used the last of her powers to protect both herself and the knowledge of her magic.

"You must _never_ speak of this to anyone," she squeezed his arms in her panic. "You may never speak of me _or_ my powers to your brothers - or _anyone_ for that matter." He looked as terrified as she did, and said nothing as she released him and stumbled to her feet just as the man she presumed to be his brother appeared through the trees.

By his coat and aged features, she assumed the man was his eldest brother and crowned prince Kasper. Ansa froze halfway in the clearing, her eyes wild with guilt and still soaking wet from their fight in the river. Hans sat at the bank - faceless, limp at the riverside - and only looked up once to crumple his brow at his brother before bursting into tears.

Ansa stood between the two, her body rigid in terror as she awaited his brother to assess the situation. He looked slowly from them both, mouth agape, before turning his attention back to Ansa.

"_Gods_, what happened here?" he trembled. Then, stepping towards Ansa, he placed two concerned hands on either side of her shoulder and looked to his brother. "Hans, _what happened?_" he ground out in an accusing voice. Hans had stopped crying, and simply resumed staring with empty eyes at the ground - as much in shock as Ansa was. Anxious of what he would say, Ansa curled into her body and hid in the now protective cocoon of his brother's arms, too fearful to say anything. Regardless of what she knew, it became apparent that Hans would not (or could not) say anything about it. What mattered now is what _looked_ like happened, and Ansa wasn't entirely sure yet until the words came out of Hans' mouth as if stolen from her own panicked thoughts.

"I'm sorry, Kasper…" he croaked out. Hans began to cry again, and in that next moment she felt the bear-like brother wrap his great arms around her and pull her protectively to him. She knew then what she'd done, but she could not will herself to say anything. Instead, she hunkered into the welcoming man's arms and began to cry a lifetime of tears.


	15. The Kinder

**Author's Note: **I actually seriously considered cutting this entire chapter for a very long time because while it wasn't _essential_, it conveyed a lot of importance on the dynamic relationship between Queen Ansa and Prince Hans. I had intended to make this fanfic only ten chapters initially, but it seems the story had other ideas, so after much deliberation I decided the character development in this chapter was too important to pass up. So while showing this side of Ansa isn't important to the plot, it was important to me as a writer to show her more human side. I'm a sucker for my villains, after all. In my opinion, you can't have a truly good villain until you've fallen in love with them. Anyway, enjoy!

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_Fun Fact -_ The root meaning of Ansa's name is derived from two Finnish words meaning _virtue_ and _trap_.

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Ansa woke with a start and gripped her chest. She could still hear their voices whispering in the back of her conscious, and shook her head to rid herself of the chorus. Their noise was replaced by the muted hum of nighttime crickets and frogs.

"Bad dreams?" a weary male voice deadpanned from her right. Hans was still hunkered over his knees, and the magical restraints shined around his wrists under the firelight. His deadened gaze stayed locked on the fire - she could see the shards still clung to the sides of his temples the same as before.

"More or less," she chose while standing to her feet to brush off her gown. "I see you're still valiantly fighting my curse," she raised a brow while stepping over to her horse to pull out a map. From the corner of her gaze, she saw him shift further into his posture and dip his head low.

"With every breath in my body," he muttered to himself. Ansa sighed.

"You know you'll only hurt yourself," she chided while turning her attention to her map, then scoured the horizon for the star points she'd memorized as a child.

"All the more reason," Hans ground out, causing Ansa to turn in curiosity and set aside her maps in favor of approaching him. The prince _had_ fought against her magic quite bravely, though it still perplexed her as to _how_ he managed such a feat. Hans had kept it up since awaking from her spell earlier that day, and even with the added strength of her magic it seemed to have no effect on his mood. It was, in fact, his _own_ dour mood portrayed too.

"What has that wretched woman done to you, dear Hans?" she crossed her arms while looking down at him. He refused to look up. "Answer me, Hans," Ansa's voice took on a note of authority.

When he refused, she grew impatient and sighed before waving her hand and forced him to look up. He grunted and strained to turn away, but at the very least she was confident in her ability to control his movements with her magic. If not his mind, at least her powers still had control over his physical form. It was a small but bitter reassurance. His eyes burned into her own as she stared him down, then raised her brow in slight surprise. It had been a long time since she'd seen his own anger.

"Really now, you needn't be such a child about this," she frowned while continuing to force his posture. He bared her a snarl, though said nothing. She scoffed and rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "If you had just _listened_, none of this would have happened, Hans," she shook her head. "I might have even let you keep your _precious _Elsa as a pet."

"She's not a _pet_," he snarled. Ansa put a mocking hand to her chest and laughed.

"Oh, that's right, I forgot-" she said. "That's _your_ title, now isn't it?" Her smile was pure venom, as vindictive as the growing row of teeth Hans bared at her like a wild dog. Her smirk fell in an instant when she grew tired of their bickering, and with a yank of her hand jerked the magical lead forward, and with it Hans. He grunted and bent low, then slowly angled his head to glare up at his vicious queen. She knelt down just out of reach of him, though bore no fear of the chained prince. As intolerable and selfish as he'd been in the past, she'd prevailed to raise him as her own son in the absence of his own mother. He could at least appreciate that, even if he never acknowledged her effort. This foolishness would go on no longer. Bitter and tired, she twisted her mouth into a frown and told Hans only what he needed to hear.

"That's all you ever were to her, Hans," she grabbed his jaw and stared him down, her stony voice throttling him down into his bones. "You were a mere _plaything_ for her to experiment on, nothing more," she shoved his face away when it grew too frustrating to keep looking at him, then stood to her feet.

"No more than I am to you," he dared to say once her back was turned. He was struggling to keep a hold of himself, nearly overpowered by Ansa's ire. He sucked in a ragged breath, then curled a hateful smile on his mouth when she turn her wild eyes over her shoulder. "_Dearest _Queen Ansa," he mocked her with every syllable, contorting his mouth into the ugliest shape he could. His insult burned into the core of her body until she felt she might burst into flames from her overwhelming fury.

"Have I not treated you kindly?" Ansa writhed her mouth in contempt as she surveyed him over her shoulder. He shifted, though said nothing, and merely stared her down with that self-righteous expression that made her want to rip his face right off. She turned on him and swung her gown around, narrowing her gaze. "Have I not offered you _everything_ and more?!" she raised her voice, drawing her hand to stand Hans to his feet. Ansa reached out and wrapped her shaking hand around his neck as he hovered helplessly above the ground. His heart thrashed in his chest and pulsed rapidly against the crook of his throat. Her fingers ached to squeeze it right out of him.

"I… never… w-wanted it," he struggled to speak as she continued to restrict his throat, feeling the rush of life squirming just beneath her fingertips and burning her skin. How easy it would be to just-

"_No_," she croaked and released him entirely before stumbling back, now attempting to compose herself. "_Don't_… lie to me, Hans," she breathed in shallow and quick to calm herself, her eyes now roaming the ground so he wouldn't see her spike of fear. Hans looked up slowly from the heap she'd dropped him in on the ground, his own eyes slightly pained in surprise as he reached up shackled hands to touch his marred neck.

"Would you look at yourself, Ansa?" Hans' voice adopted a familiar old tune of brotherly concern. She furrowed her brow and pinched her nose, trying to quell the headache that bloomed between her eyes. She'd overdone it again. Hans, undeterred, sat forward on his knees and dropped his bound hands back in his lap. "You're losing control of it," he shook his head. "You're turning into something you're _not_." His sympathy only provoked her more, and with an overzealous whip of her head she swung her hand around and knocked him back with another burst of her magic. He grunted and hit the far wall of the shallow cavern before dropping to the ground. He lay motionless only for a moment before laboring to sit up again to stare her down.

"I am perfectly in control of myself," she could feel the wind pick up around her in defense, then stopped herself when she realized what she was doing. Hans was still struggling to straighten fully, and once he'd raised his head she noticed a small trail of blood began to slip down his forehead where he'd hit his head against the rocks. He continued to stare at her in stony silence, his expression set and mouth tightened.

"No, you're not," he reasserted himself before reaching up a shoulder to try and wipe the trickling blood from his brow. "You haven't had control of it since the day you cursed me by the river, Ansa."

It took her a moment to realize it was the first time he had verbally acknowledged his curse. For eleven years she had prevented that. Either her magic had weakened to an extent that no longer protected their secret, or Hans had found a way to lift it.

"_How did you_-" she paused again to step back and assess the visage of her husband's youngest brother and present captive. The strange black scales still bloomed around his temples and turned his eyes into something resembling a demon's or monster's - though the effect was lessened by the shadow of night. In the past, those same markings only appeared when Hans defied his curse in the most extreme of circumstances. Ansa had witnessed the phenomenon only three times before. The effects undoubtedly wounded him, for she'd seen just how painful the aftermath was, but it usually never lasted more than a few minutes, let alone days. Ansa creased her brow more and frowned down at Hans in sudden concern.

"Has that silver-tongued _witch _done this to you?" she exclaimed while walking forward with tending hands. Hans abruptly lunged forward with a wild shout and pulled his chains taut. Ansa barely muffled a cry before stumbling back and retreated her shaking hands to her chest, mortified over the sight of her husband's brother. He strained with all his might, all the while keeping his wild eyes locked on her face.

"Do _NOT_ talk about the Queen of Arendelle like that _EVER_ again in my presence, do you understand?!" he yelled every word with the edge of a dagger to her throat. Ansa's surprise fell back on contempt again as she realized how protective he'd grown of his adopted queen, and found herself riled with jealousy.

"Are you so quick to forsake the queen of your _own_ kingdom?" she bit back. Hans smiled a wicked, ugly smile and bared his teeth at her with a laugh. The fractured glass began to spread.

"You were never my queen, you _miserable_ _serpent_. Elsa is a finer queen than you could _ever_ dream to be," he challenged her with a goading smile that invited her to rip his soul from his body then and there. Ansa, boiling over with contempt and fury that her own brother-in-law would so quickly pledge his loyalty to a woman he'd conspired to murder, surged with a final outcry and ripped Hans right from the ground and strangled him in mid-air.

"I am a better queen than ANY creature that dares walk this earth!" she bellowed in a low, throaty roar while raising him high off the ground. His smug expression quickly turned to panic as he grasped at the invisible chains that strangled his throat. She took great satisfaction in reducing him to such a state, only enjoying it more when he began to kick and thrash.

A feral smile creased her features as she dropped him, finally, in a shaken heap on the ground and stood over him. He was as pitiful as a frightened child, huddled up into his body and holding shaking hands to his bruised jugular. He looked up to Ansa in sheer terror.

"_That's better_," she bared him a snarl, then lifted him once again from the ground by his jaw to suspend in front of her. She burned her malice and hatred into his wide, fearful eyes, her clawed hand ghosted around his face as she pulled him close and sneered. "I will be a _better_ queen to Arendelle than that churlish, insignificant _harpy_ could ever hope to be," she wavered on every contemptible word, her lips curling with each syllable. He mouthed words of denial, though it fell on silent lips from the magic she had inflicted. She dropped him back in the dirt then, only snorting in disgust as he began to panic when he realized he could no longer speak. He started to frantically grasp around as if expecting to find it somewhere at their feet.

Weary of fighting with Hans, Ansa turned and walked back to her saddle before retrieving her maps. She could hear Hans stumbling around in the background, though he undoubtedly wouldn't go very far now that he knew she intended to kill Elsa herself. After a bit of shuffling, he grew quiet and forced her distracted gaze over her shoulder. He'd resumed his seat beside the fire, entirely defeated as he stared down in perplexed horror at his hands.

The anger left Ansa as quickly as it arrived. Sighing, she released the last bit of tension from her body and slumped her shoulders before setting back down her maps to soothe her startled horse, who had since begun to shift around in apprehension to the shouting and noise. She stroked the beast's muzzle, quietly shushing him. The stallion made a small, appreciative noise in response before allowing his rider to pet him. Ansa ran her fingers across the horse's mane until he'd fully calmed down and dipped his head low. After a time, Ansa spoke up again, though kept her back to Hans so he would not see the guilt twisting onto her features.

"Be grateful you will not witness Arendelle's demise. If I were so cruel, I would make you watch as I took the life of your new mistress," her tone was heavy and voice torn, though Hans said nothing in return. She dwelled on her statement for a pause before dropping her hands from her horse's saddle to stare at the ground.

"I am kinder than she ever was," she whispered to herself, choosing not to remark on exactly _who _she meant by the statement. Hans slowly sunk to the ground, lost in a grievous daze as he stared at the fire until it began to flicker and die.

_ Am I not kinder?_


	16. The King's Heart

**Author's Note:** I must profusely apologize for the extensive gap of time from my last update. Life and other priorities got in the way, as well as a serious case of writer's block. You should be interested to know I've rewritten this particular chapter from scratch about _four_ times due to the fact I couldn't seem to find the right "tone" for it. Anyway, we welcome back Kasper the heartfelt king, though a little worse for wear. Only a few more chapters to go, guys!

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As they stepped onto the threshold of the city, Elsa felt particularly unnerved by the silence. They hadn't seen a soul at the docks, and other than the low bellows of the docked ships and the occasional gull cry, not a sound echoed across the expanse of the harbor.

The horses became distinctly aware of the prickling sensation of danger as well and began to hesitate the further they delved into the empty city streets.

"I don't understand… _where_ is everyone?" Anna's voice sounded small and unsure, though held steadfast to a note of curiosity to try and mask her fears. Elsa could already feel her stomach growing sick as the scene unfolded before her and only solidified what had haunted the back of her mind ever since Anna described Hans' captor.

Her heart began to pace harder against her ribs as they wound down the empty streets, though she held steadfast to her reins and kept her chin held high. She couldn't let Anna know just how afraid she was, otherwise she might not have the strength left to keep it together if her sister were to fall apart now. Whether or not she'd been willing to acknowledge it in the past - her strength was only owed to the fact that her sister was always willing to recklessly dive into danger to protect the ones she cared about. While Elsa only ever wanted to find that burning fire in her own heart, she was nothing in comparison to her little sister's bravery. Instead, she would quietly draw on its power and try to keep it together in lieu of following in Anna's path. She was supposed to be the big sister, after all.

"Something's not right here…" Elsa murmured once they began to reach the inner city. Small, homely cottages gave way to towering stone structures that encased the streets. Overhead the walls loomed so high that the morning light could not penetrate most of the inner city - at least not until noon when the sun would be overhead. As the stone and shadows began to close in around them, Elsa felt herself tensing at the sound of their horses' hooves clopping against the dirt and cobblestone streets. They passed only briefly through glaring shocks of light filtered between pillars and high-mounted lookouts on the watch towers.

"Someone would have seen us by now - what if this is a trap, Elsa?" Anna spoke up as they rounded another corner and were, yet again, met by complete silence and empty streets. True, Elsa was just as unnerved as her sister if not more - though she did well to hide it - but something prickled at the back of her mind and warned her to tread carefully. While it had crossed her mind that the Isles might be awaiting their arrival, something told her they had not expected their youngest prince back so soon. She wasn't so certain he was still here…

As if she had read her thoughts, Anna voiced the concerns that flooded Elsa's conscious. "We should go back. There's no reason to be here if Hans isn't… and it's not looking in our favor anymore, Elsa. Something's _wrong_," she drew Sitron alongside Winter and looked to her sister in earnest, gripping her reins for inflection. Elsa drew to a slow stop as her attention returned to the front, and Anna fell still beside her as well when they both drew their eyes up the looming structure of the castle gates.

"This isn't a trap, Anna…" Elsa spoke in an empty murmur as she slipped from her saddle onto the ground and moved forward without another word. Out of the corner of her eye, Anna could see Elsa's expression shift to uneasy fear as she approached the entrance - which on second glance Anna realized was left ajar.

"_Wha_-" Anna, compelled by curiosity and fear for her sister's safety, dismounted as well and led both of the nervous horses behind her. Sitron whinnied and jerked at his leads, though Winter seemed more than prepared to follow after her rider into the castle courtyard.

"Elsa?" Anna called in a low voice once she'd slipped through the gate to the other side, coaxing both horses along with her. She had her back turned as she led them inside, and had to pause when both Sitron and Winter began to snort and pace, both pulling at their leads. "Calm _down_, it's okay," she hushed them and turned around, her mouth parted to call for Elsa again. The words stuck fast in her throat and withered along with her breath.

Elsa stood directly in the center of the courtyard with her arms held just shy of her body. Anna fell to a dead halt as well when she realized what Elsa was looking at. There, littered all over the courtyard, were ash-colored bodies lying face-down. Anna couldn't count how many, only hitch on her breath long enough to not sob or vomit. From the bottom of the towering steps to the very top of the castle entrance, bodies were slung across the surface. Anna caught her frigid breath again and held both hands to her mouth, too horrified to speak.

While she was petrified by the sight, Anna's concern for her sister propelled her forward and forced her to leave their pacing horses behind to be at Elsa's side. She ghosted a hand to touch her shoulder, then thought better of it and retracted the hand to her chest. Once Elsa's profile came into view, Anna could see the desperate strain on her face to remain calm. Already a wind had picked up around her feet, and snow fell around the ground. Her arms shook at her sides and eyes wavered on uncertain tears as she stared down at the innocent souls now lying in the dirt, lost forever.

"All these people…" she trembled. Elsa's hands began to clench into fists at her sides as she fought back the sorrow and anger now budding in her throat. The wind picked up fiercely around her, twirling their hair and whipping it to and fro. Anna swallowed her breath, too afraid to voice what could be one of the few obvious answers to whom had done such an awful thing. She didn't want to believe it, but it looked as if there were no other choice.

As if reading her thoughts, Elsa suddenly loosened her shoulders and let out an exhausted sigh before speaking. "Hans didn't do this…" she croaked, then looked down at the breadth of her palms, running fingers across the lines in her hands. She clenched them again, and steeled her expression once more before raising her chin high to the castle entrance. "She will _answer_ for this, though.." Elsa ground out before gathering her train and continuing forward up the steps.

Anna, both confused and fearful again as her sister left her side, bundled up her own skirt and stumbled after Elsa. With every body they passed, her heart thrashed anew in her chest and stomach turned over. She picked and crossed her way up the steps after Elsa, calling to her the entire time to slow down.

Once they reached the top of the steps, Elsa broke into a run ahead of Anna, forcing her younger sister to call out in exasperation once again. As she jogged to keep in pace, Anna found herself paused by the sight of the atrium - or what _used_ to be an atrium. The garden had been upheaved as if a giant monster had come to tear it from the earth itself. Fountains were upturned and flooded the walkways, stone archways turned to rubble, and every single flower dead or trampled. She turned back to find Elsa had already reached the other end of the garden, and only caught a glimpse of her gown before she disappeared up another set of stairs into an archway.

"_Elsa_!" Anna hissed across the courtyard. "What are you _doing_ we can't go inside!" she nearly tripped over her dress again as she hurried after her, only just reaching the steps when she heard a door slam inside. Anna was halfway across an enormous, empty hall that looked to be a throne room when a startled woman turned and looked at her. She wore a simple dress and apron, and carried a bundle of blankets in her arms. By the distressed, dirt-smudged look on her face, she was well aware of the many bodies by the steps, but more concerning was the fact that there was someone left alive in the castle. Anna made a beeline straight for the confused woman, who had clearly just encountered Elsa.

"M-Miss, what are you-" she looked from the stairwell Elsa had disappeared up to Anna, unsure of what to say. Anna took the woman by her shoulders and looked at her in earnest, her brow scrunching up.

"Are you okay?" Anna asked first. Upon closer inspection, she could see former tears staining the portly old woman's cheeks. After a pause to absorb her question, the woman started to nod, then quickly shook her head.

"N-No, _no_-" she began to say, then dropped her blankets to take hold of Anna in a sudden height of fear. "Miss, you must _leave_ immediately! It's too dangerous for you both to be here. P-Please, she might come back!" she whispered, her eyes widened. Anna slowly pulled the woman off of her and took a step back, confused again by the ominous reference to the "she" that had somehow caused all of this.

"What are you talking about? _Who_ did this?" she pressed, suddenly filled with alarm at the prospect that a single woman had done this much damage. She could still be in the castle. It occurred to Anna quite suddenly that she might be referring to the woman Anna had seen take Hans. She, however, did not realize who the woman was - nor the impact she had made on her kingdom.

"_The Queen_," the old woman spoke in a grave, rattled gasp. "Oh, heavens spare my soul," she sobbed. "My lady has turned on her own _people_, what cruelty have we earned for this?" Anna took another step back and swallowed her breath.

"W- you mean the _Queen_? Of the _Isles_? That can't-" Anna paused when she recalled the fear on Elsa's face when she described the woman. She was reminded of Elsa's explanation of what had transpired on the Isles when she left with Hans - or at least the little information Anna was willing to listen to before storming off. A lump began to bud in her throat when she realized just how serious this was. Her voice cracked in the slightest when she spoke to the woman again. "Why would the Queen of the Isles do this to her own people?" she asked in a frigid murmur. If she was willing to do this to the people she governed over, Anna didn't want to think about what she would be willing to do to Arendelle, or Hans for that matter.

"I don't know, _I don't know_," the old woman wailed, covering her face with her dirt-smudged hands. Anna grabbed her wrists and looked at the woman.

"Did you see what happened?" she begged the question from wide, demanding eyes. The old woman looked up, her lip quivering, and shrunk away from the question like a scared child.

"I pray that I may forget that nightmarish sight - the Queen storming up the steps like she'd broken from the bowels of the earth in hellfire," she shook her head and paled a bit as she recalled the scene obviously still fresh in her mind. "She sucked their souls right from their bodies, dropped them at her feet. I've never seen such _horror_," she began to quietly cry again, and covered her mouth. Anna put a comforting hand to the woman's shoulder, silently willing her on.

"Did she have anyone with her - the prince perhaps?" she tried. Suddenly the woman clutched onto her dress and looked her in the eye, her mouth contorted into a small and terrible shape.

"He was with her - oh a _monstrous _sight!" she whispered. "Like a black hearted demon, it was _terrible_," she said. "Those angry, red eyes and scales black as night," she began to fret the more she described the memory, though Anna already knew exactly what it looked like. It was enough to give anyone nightmares. She knew the most important question, however, was more than whether or not Hans had been seen with the Queen of the Isles.

"Did he hurt anyone?" she said these words carefully and slowly, and looked the old woman in the eyes for any form of deceit or confusion. She had to know the truth - for her sister's sake. For her own. The poor old maid looked up from her trembling, fidgeting hands to stare at Anna, her mouth still agape, and slowly shook her head.

"_No_," was the only thing she said before picking up her blankets again and calming herself. She began to waddle off again, and Anna turned to the woman in confusion.

"Where are you going?" she asked in concern. The woman didn't turn to acknowledge her, merely spoke over her shoulder as if in a trance.

"I don't want them to get cold lying on the ground," she muttered in a raspy, low voice before continuing outside. Anna's chest tightened again in slight anxiety as she watched the strange old maid disappear and leave her alone in the throne room. Turning back to the staircase she'd seen Elsa disappear to, Anna breathed in and soldiered on after her elder sister.

When she reached the hallway of the second floor, it didn't take long for Anna to track where Elsa had gone. A small trail of ice and snow marked her nervous footsteps along the hall runner. It led all the way up to a pair of old oak double-doors carved with the symbol of a lion eating a star. She paused at the door and listened. Two voices spoke inside. Steeling herself in case the mad queen awaited on the other side, Anna took hold of one of the brass lion handles and stepped inside.

Elsa was halfway to a stand, helping a man twice her size sit up. Immediately Anna rushed to help and moved the lumbering body to the edge of an equally as large bed. He grunted upon sitting, though clearly awake, and sunk right back onto his knees and sighed. Elsa looked at Anna from the man's adjacent, trying to will a silent message to her but unable to make it clear enough for Anna to understand. She just scrunched up her brow and tilted her head.

"Thank you…" the man murmured, signaling both of the sisters to move to give him some space.

"Are you all right now?" Elsa spoke in a gentle and low voice, as if to an old friend. Anna scrunched up her face more and looked from her sister to the man, then back to the man. He wore too fine of clothes to be another house servant or a guard. He wore a rich, embroidered coat and arms the color of amber, and a rich crimson cloak around his shoulders. She looked at his slightly masked features and realized to her slight shock he must be the King of the Isles.

"King Kasper?" Anna worked out the phrase as both a question and statement. He could barely lift his head to acknowledge her; or perhaps was too ashamed to do so. By the disheveled look of his clothes and the strange, discolored markings across his arms he had been attacked as well. "The maid said your Queen did this.." she forced the words out, needing to know for certain if it was true.

The King suddenly lurched forward and made a strange noise in his throat. While his head was bent low enough to prevent either of the women from seeing, Anna could recognize tears when she saw them. He struggled to compose himself, and after another withering breath, ran a hand across the width of his face and looked up. His eyes were red.

"Never in my life would I have expected my Ansa to do such a thing to me," he croaked out, drained anew by the mere mention of her name as he shuddered on his breath and cleared his throat to try and rid himself of the nagging dismay. He shook his head and looked at the floor, ashamed of himself. "I suppose love can blind us as well as hinder us," he murmured. "I was too foolish to see her for what she _was_. I should have trusted-" he sucked in another sharp breath and began to shake when tears formed in his eyes again. After holding his breath long enough to clear his vision, he let it all out in another puff and clasped his great hands together.

"Now my kingdom is upturned, my people are _dead_, and my youngest brother converted to nothing more than a _puppet_ for her bidding," his jaw ticked as he stared hard at his hands, trying to focus on calming himself but still unable to. Elsa, moved by her gentle heart and the king's broken words, fell to her knees in front of the mighty man and placed her small hand to his knee. He looked up, tear struck, and tensed up his face when his gaze met her own.

"You were right about my brother - I should have listened," he began to choke on his words. "I should have never locked him up; this was all Ansa's doing, and n-now…" he shook his head, tears wavering, and dipped his head to quietly cry. "I'll never see him again, my brother is lost."

Elsa's reassurance fell short with those words. From Anna's position, she could see brief fear flash across her face at the prospect of never finding Hans again. It stirred a deep-bellied concern in Anna she would have previously brushed off in the wake of her indifference for him. Elsa was willing to cross an ocean and brave the steps of a city that had tried to capture her in order to find Hans. That was more than enough for Anna to realize her sister truly did care. It didn't matter what she thought of him; she couldn't stand to see that forlorn look on her face any longer.

"We'll find him," Anna stepped in, her chin held high in determination. The weary king looked up from his woeful cocoon to acknowledge the younger sister, quickly noting her appearing and creasing his brow.

"You've come as well?" he filtered out the reasoning that she must be Elsa's sibling, and clenched his jaw. "You came all this way, too?" Anna wasn't sure how to respond to his question, and lowered her chin before slowly nodding.

"It meant enough to my sister to risk coming back here alone and unarmed," she confessed. Then, looking at Elsa knelt on the floor, smiled in a slight and wistful way. "So I'll do whatever I can to help." Elsa offered a quiet smile in return before standing back to her feet and looking down at the heartbroken king.

"We will find Hans, and try to bring your wife back as well to answer for this, Kasper…" she offered him a reassuring but stony nod. He looked up and dried his tears long enough to offer a sad but heartfelt smile in return. His arms reached out briefly to grasp her hand and hold it inside of his bear-like grip.

"Thank you, Elsa, really I-" he struggled to find the words, and shook his head. "I don't deserve your help, not after everything we've done. Certainly not after what has been done to your kingdom-" Elsa knelt back down briefly to look at the weary King Kasper and placed her free hand on top of his.

"You've been a good king to your people," she spoke to him in a hushed, meaningful tone, "don't ever doubt that. You've committed nothing against me, Kasper." Then, standing, she resumed her place beside Anna and glanced about her.

"As I've said already, she refused to tell me where she's taken him," he resumed his own low, wearied tone - though slightly more formal since recollecting himself. He cleared his throat once more for good measure and looked from both of the sisters, creasing his brow. "I would storm the gates of her prison myself if it meant returning my brother."

"Please, rest…" Elsa held up her hand when she realized he was trying to stand up again. He barely managed to push his shaking arms under him before grunting and resuming his place with elbows resting on his knees. He heaved a sigh.

"My dearest wife has tried to kill me, Queen Elsa-" he spoke in a rough, bitter laugh. "I doubt I will get much rest tonight."

Elsa pressed her lips together and worried her brow, unsure of how to comfort him. Anna grabbed hold of her arm and exchanged a look of silent urgency with her sister. There was nothing they could do about the broken heart of a king. All they could try to do now was find his brother before the last of the mighty king's soul withered away.

"I promise we will return," Anna reassured him once more for good measure before following Elsa to the door. Elsa paused last in the doorway, hanging on the frame to look once more back to the slumped king. He spoke from the shadow of his massive shoulders, head still bent, though his voice held a dangerous edge to it mumbled from the lips of a feral beast.

"Please, when you save my brother - bury that witch's head in the ground for me," he muttered. Elsa paused only for a moment before slowly shutting the door behind her.


	17. Reconciliation

**Author's Note: **If you couldn't tell by now, I have a thing for writing sibling relationships haha. I love when stories emphasize on it. I wish more would. Anyway, here's a chapter where the action finally starts!

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Check out the official Mirror's Edge Instrumental Playlist on 8tracks! (insert link with no spaces) - _ 8tracks dot com / shutterbones / mirror-s-edge-instrumental_

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Once they left the city outskirts, Elsa seemed to relax a bit. Both of the sisters were still unnerved by the bodies left in the streets, but there was nothing more they could do for the poor citizens now but try and help find their youngest prince.

As they began to move through the trees towards the port the King had told them to find, Anna turned to her sister.

"Do you really think it's a good idea to leave him alone there..?" she tested. Though she knew how important it was to both the King and Elsa to find Hans… she didn't know if it was for the best that they abandoned the injured King - potentially alone - inside a shambled castle. Elsa ticked her jaw for a brief moment and glanced her way.

"His third brother is expected to arrive with his wife this afternoon. They had already planned to converge to discuss plans regarding a treaty with Arendelle… and regarding Hans," her expression tightened a bit. "Kasper's wife had been losing rationale as of late, and he told me once your letter arrived… she took it upon herself to retrieve Hans by force."

"I-" Anna began to apologize, but Elsa held up her hand with a furrowed brow.

"Please- it's not your fault," she interrupted. Then, sighing, she dropped her hands and kept her weary eyes on the front. "From what Kasper described, Ansa has been slipping for a while now… ever since Hans left, in fact. He had suspected something, but…" she paused when she couldn't find the words to describe the carnage they had both seen at the castle. She shook her head. "No one expected this."

"Do you think she would have done this were Hans still at the castle?" Anna dared asked. Not that she aimed the question to accuse her sister, but merely concerned over the fact Elsa might be considering herself what could've happened were she to have left Hans in the first place. Elsa's knuckles turned white on the reins, then relaxed. Her lips pressed together.

"I already asked Kasper that…" she muttered. Then said, "or rather, tried to apologize for it."

"What does he believe?" Anna asked.

"He tells me this was something that had been building for a lot longer than a few months. Apparently the late King's wife has never withheld her disdain for our kingdom," she said the last words quite bitterly, then composed herself. "I suppose it was our great fortune that the King never saw eye-to-eye with her. She's wanted an excuse to declare war on our city for a long time now."

"But _why?! _What did we ever do to them?" Anna's tone raised now in incredulity. Elsa just shouldered a hapless, tired look to her sister and turned back to the front.

"I don't know, Anna…" her voice was tired and budding with closure to their conversation. Her sister fell quiet after that.

Silence stretched on for many hours after that - and even on the short ferry ride across the water to the other shore, Elsa kept quiet with her elbow on the windowsill. She had shut out the rest of the world again and buried herself deep in her own regrets.

Once they reached the other side and had fed and resaddled their horses, Elsa's determination seemed to light anew. It was only a few more hours to reach the ravine where supposedly they could find the village Pabbie had talked about. They ran hard and fast on horseback until Anna could hardly keep up.

Eventually their sprinting fell to a slow trot as the gorge came into view. It loomed overhead and blocked out most of the sky, towering above the surrounding spruce trees that had seemed so lofty before. Anna slowed down to a near-halt and took in the sight, her chest jumping in alarm.

"Are you sure this is the right way?" Anna pulled back on Sitron's reins again when he tried to follow after Winter - who was fearlessly trotting towards the abysmal entrance to the ravine. When her sister said nothing in return, Anna surveyed the enormous rock face and held in a breath, then finally let it out in a giant exhale before catching up to her sister.

"Okay fine-" she relented and fell in trot behind her sister. As they wound through the endless pathway with rocks bordering on either side, Anna felt trapped. It seemed like the stone itself was pressing in around them and trying to crush the sisters. Perhaps she was imagining it. "I'll have you know I'm not too fond of creepy, ominous trenches," she said, then raised a hand in relent when her sister glanced over her shoulder. "Just so you know," she emphasized.

"We'll be fine, Anna.." Elsa reassured her, though already her skin prickled in anticipation the further they drew into the canyon. Despite the dying sun they had witnessed over the treetops earlier, not a thread of light could be seen in the canyon. Nothing but dark, cold stone and fog surrounded them.

After a few, long minutes passed by they rounded a corner and caught sight of the exit - aglow by the welcoming light of sunset. Anna sighed in relief and slumped her shoulders, only to gasp in sudden horror when something ahead glinted against the setting sun.

"Elsa, STOP!" she yelled and held out her hand just before Elsa walked right into the obstruction. Her sister pulled back on Winter's reins in time to turn around. Anna, with eyes still frigidly locked on the object, carefully moved forward and pulled alongside Elsa before grabbing her arm and pointing. "Look-" she barely spoke, her voice edging on anticipation as the nearly-invisible shard glinted again.

Both of the sisters watched in slightly perplexed fear as the obstruction glinted and shifted under the light. As they both approached, Elsa drew back with a sudden gasp once they realized what it was.

"It's glass-" Anna reached out a hand, and hardly had she drawn close that another shard suddenly materialized from the edge of the moving spike and tried to pierce her skin. She made a noise in her throat and yanked back on her leads, causing Sitron to neigh and nearly throw her off the saddle.

"Anna!" Elsa reared Winter around and began to move to help her when another glimmer caught her eye, this time a breadth from her throat. She tilted her chin up and stared down at the knife-edged shard, now creeping its way across the length of the narrow gap to pierce the opposite stone wall. She swallowed.

"A-Anna, we have to move. _Now_."

While she didn't want to alarm her sister, the moment caused for urgency - something she had a hard time relaying to her sister without creating panic. Her own heart thundered against her ribs as she looked to the spot Anna was thrashing around in atop Sitron, and realized glass was beginning to form from the walls.

_ It's a trap…_

From who or where, she did not know. Only that if they did not find a way out soon - they wouldn't make it out alive. Elsa saw another shard suddenly break out of the wall and violently crush into the opposite wall right in front of Anna. Elsa threw out her hand on instinct and blocked a second spike with her ice magic, fracturing the glass into pieces before it could pierce Anna.

Anna did not need another motivation to move, now yanking Sitron back into motion to follow after Elsa. Almost immediately the glass began to cut across their path both in front and behind, sometimes so forcefully the stone would crumble or crack in half.

Someone was trying to kill them.

Elsa threw her body forward and called to Winter, breaking into a sprint atop her horse. Anna kept right at Winter's hooves, head bent low and eyes locked on the exit.

She had been too concerned for her sister, hadn't paid attention. Elsa glanced back for the third time to make sure her sister was following, and suddenly felt her entire body thrown forward in a violent, abrupt motion. She heard Winter's strangled cry of pain as one of the glass spikes caught her legs and toppled both horse and rider to the ground. Elsa caught a flash - only a brief moment - of her sister's terrified gaze as she rode on past and turned her head in the direction of the crash.

Then Elsa was in the air, and seconds later felt her body collide against the stone and topple dozens of feet. She yelped when her body smacked against the hard stone, and finally came to a tumbling stop facedown on the ground. She could hear her heartbeat thundering in her head, and in the back of her mind she already knew how bad this was. How dangerous. She could hear Anna's scream echo in the background, though in the fog of her mind all she could focus on was the terrified shrieks of her horse.

"_W-Winter_…" she forced her arms under her, ignoring the sharp, hot-white pains that shot through her body upon lifting herself from the ground. She could see dark splatters on the ground. Blood. Her own.

She'd barely put one foot under her that she stumbled and fell against the wall, only to have a glass shard spike inches from her fingertips and thrust into the opposite wall. Anna's shouts of panic came back to the forefront of her mind when she realized her reflection the glass was moving forward - Anna had abandoned her horse.

"NO!" Elsa's voice was ragged and full of pain as she threw her hand back and created a thick wall of ice between them. Still dazed, Elsa wobbled to turn around and look at her sister through hazy, shaken vision. She stood on the other side of the wall - closest to the exit. She could get out.

"_Go_, Anna," she forced her tone to remain even. Her jaw ticked as she steeled herself and stared her sister down. She would not allow Anna to sacrifice her life a second time. Not if she could help it. "I will follow," she mouthed each word carefully, making sure Anna could see her intention.

Anna stood frozen on the other side of the wall, her mouth contorted in panic and shock when ice materialized between them. Her sister's forehead had been split open, and dirt smeared across her face. She looked at her with the vindication of a feral dog when she said those frigid words, and after a stutter of breath Anna took a heavy step backwards towards the entrance. Her eyes filled with tears.

"Promise you won't be long," her voice was ragged and heavy with grief when she spoke, though her heart agonized over every word. She knew she didn't want to leave. She wanted to take a knife to the ice and break it apart to get to her sister. But that wouldn't solve anything. That wouldn't help Elsa. Knowing it would only hinder her sister if she had to worry about both Winter and her little sister, Anna forced herself to turn her back on the ice wall and lead Sitron out of the glass-spiked ravine. Every step felt as if she were dragging the stones from the trench along with her, until finally she took the last step into daylight and stuttered on a dry sob.

Fists clenched at her sides, she slowly turned around to look back at the ravine. The glass had grown into an impenetrable forest of thick, razor-edged spikes and shards. Anna covered her mouth with a shaking hand when she realized she could no longer see her sister. It was too thick to see _anything_.

She stared at that glassy abyss for what felt like an eternity, one shaking hand still cupped to her mouth as she waited for her sister to follow. Shards continued to form and block the path until all she could see was her distorted reflection in the mirrored surface. Anna's body began to tremble, and as she stared at her own panicked face she felt the fear sink deep into her bones and anchor her to the earth.

"_ELSAA!_" her strangled voice betrayed her fears as she cupped her mouth and called into the darkness. When no one replied, Anna sucked in a breath and swallowed the budding anguish in her throat. Her heart thrashed so wildly against her sides she felt her ribs would snap at any moment. Her breath hitched again as she struggled to withhold the sob now bubbling in her throat.

_ Please, no…_

As if willed by her silent plea, a blue light flickered in the dark and refracted off of the black glass in a thousand directions. Shortly following the light came a sharp, crackling sound. The light flashed again.

In that moment of tense silence and her thundering heart, Anna spotted a bare, white hand flash in the shadows - it bloomed with ice. Shortly after a figure appeared in the darkness, bathed in silvery blue light.

It was in that moment Anna spotted her sister - teeth bared and hand raised - as she threw her arm forward and broke another row of advancing shards with her magic. Despite the spikes' growing aggression, Elsa managed to block every attempt that projected onto her position with pinpoint clarity. She had somehow formed a protective, magical field around both herself and Winter, who now hung behind her rider in a slow, limping gait. When she shattered the last layer of glass, Anna nearly tripped over herself from meeting her halfway to throw her arms around her. She took hold of her sister with a gasping sob.

"Thank goodness!" she cried, and only a few startled seconds later Elsa abandoned her own reins to hug her back.

"I _told_ you I would follow," she murmured in a weary voice. This only made Anna laugh more as she tried to collect herself amidst hugging her sister. After a brief pause, Anna pulled back and looked her sister up and down in concern.

"Are you okay? Did Winter get hurt?" she demanded. Elsa smiled and laughed, though tired, and moved past Anna to sit down.

"She can't ride anymore until we tend to her cut, but she's going to be fine," she patted Winter's side before taking a wobbly seat on a rock, shortly followed by her tending younger sister. "It seems she took the brunt of the fall to keep me from getting hurt. There was a shard just ahead that would have taken my throat had she not stopped," she ran her fingers across her collarbone in slightly paled recollection before clearing her throat.

After recollecting herself, Elsa's attention turned back to the horizon. The sun was nearly behind the trees now, and darkness settling over the valley. Anna could see her expression fall.

"I'm sorry," Anna immediately apologized when she realized they would have to wait even longer to reach the village. "We can leave first thing in the morning, okay?" she reassured her.

Elsa sighed and ran both hands through her hair, staring at the ground. Anna took a slow seat beside her on her knees and touched her sister's arm.

"It's okay to worry sometimes," Anna relented to the fear she could see working its way into Elsa's features. She decidedly plopped down on the seat of her dress when the crouched position became too uncomfortable, then patted Elsa's knee. "We'll find him, I _promise_," she reassured her.

"It's not that," Elsa murmured. Anna raised her expression in surprise.

"What is it, then?" she tempted. Elsa seemed to consider her answer for a long moment - almost thinking better of it - then let out a long, dragging sigh.

"I almost got you killed just now," her voice cracked in the slightest as she cupped her hands to her chin and looked down at the ground, careful to avoid looking at Anna. "I-I don't know what I would've done if you'd been hurt," she murmured.

This stirred Anna from her seat in a fit of frustration as she drew up and put both hands on her hips, glaring down at Elsa. Her elder sister looked up in surprise.

"Stop _DOING_ that - please just _stop it_, Elsa," she demanded.

"Stop what?" Elsa lowered her hands and continued to stare at Anna in that look of slight bewilderment.

"Stop acting like this is all your fault, for _one_. And _stop_ acting like I don't want to be here - I _do_," she softened on the last note and crouched in front of Elsa again. "I won't let you shoulder this responsibility by yourself. You shouldn't _have_ to," she scrunched up her brow and looked down, suddenly struck with guilt. "This is as much my fault as anyone's, if not more," she shook her head and looked back up at Elsa. "I should have listened to you, but I didn't. I was angry and hurt and I took it out on you… and you didn't deserve that." She shook her head.

"Anna-"

"No, please, I need to finish-" Anna persisted. Elsa fell quiet and folded her hands tight over her lap as her sibling continued.

"You're my _sister_, and I love you," she spoke every word with purpose, then took Elsa's hands in her own and squeezed them. "It's my _job_ to look out for you."

Before Elsa could explain that her sister had every right to be angry, and tell her all the things she had meant to say weeks ago - Anna pulled her forward and hugged her. Both sisters sputtered on half-tears and drew into the hug with a long-desired need for comfort.

"I'm so sorry, Anna," Elsa squeezed her sister tight and tensed her face. "I should have told you everything from the beginning," she pulled back and began to apologize for all the things she'd meant to say and hadn't had the courage to. Anna tried to shake her head in dismissal, but it was Elsa's definitive to speak her mind in that moment before she lost her nerve entirely. "There is one thing I need to apologize for most of all," she furrowed her brow. "Hans…" she broke off, unsure of how to start, then found herself again and squeezed her sister's arm.

"I was blinded by the fact that Arendelle hated him for trying to take over our kingdom," she shook her head. "I was so focused… I forgot what he'd done to _you_." Elsa looked down and crossed her hands over her lap, feeling the guilt swell in her throat once more.

"There is nothing I can say to mend a broken heart," she looked up, "but I am truly sorry for forcing you to face that again so soon. I know it wasn't easy." She feared Anna would draw away, but when she didn't Elsa reached out again to touch her hands. "_Thank you _for coming here to help me."

"Don't mention it," Anna curled a half-smile onto her face before patting Elsa's hand and standing to her feet. With her hands on her hips, she surveyed the dying embers of the sky and squinted. "I guess we'll camp here for the night," she shrugged and dropped her arms back at her side, then looked over her shoulder to her sister with a smirk. "It's too bad you don't have fire powers instead," she teased. Elsa shook her head and laughed before standing to her feet to join her.

"Would you have rather I set off an eternal _wildfire_ in Arendelle?" she retaliated. Anna thought for a moment before loosening her features in surprise.

"_Wow_, I guess not…" she broke into a laugh, infecting her sister until they were both red in the face.


End file.
